


Legacies

by littleotter73



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 23:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7457350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleotter73/pseuds/littleotter73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After helping to rebuild the Council, Buffy and Giles team up to search out artifacts and investigate supernatural issues on its behalf. This assignment takes them to Germany along the Mosel River to meet up with a man who has a couple of Medieval manuscripts in his possession belonging to the Council and to the Giles family. What sort of wisdom can a long dead ancestor impart after 750 years? And what were his books doing in the possession of someone not affiliated with the Council?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacies

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: foreverbooks, to whom I am totally indebted for stepping in to help when other arrangements fell through. This story is a behemoth and she took it all in stride.
> 
> A/N 1: Special thanks to my friend emerys for help with some of the French background - it goes deeper than what is in the actual story, but it was fun to create that world, and to my friend Regan for the Latin translation.
> 
> A/N 2: Written for Summer of Giles 2016
> 
> A/N 3: Dedicated to il_mio_capitano, thank you for being you.

Legacies

 

_His heart pounded like a thousand horses hooves in his chest as he gasped for breath. He’d taken his satchel and placed it into the hollow of a dead tree, concealing it with forest debris for good measure. It was night and he hoped that the winter sun would keep it concealed during the day, his cargo too precious to fall into enemy hands. For now, he knew he needed to separate himself from it, his wounds too great to outrun his pursuers any longer. And, truth was, he feared them more than any vampire or demon known to him._

 

_He knew how they worked. Knew the network of spies and informants. Knew of the sympathizers and allies. And he knew he wasn’t safe. News of his escape would surely have reached these parts of the Holy Roman Empire by now._

 

_He clasped his side with his hand, wincing and trying to staunch the bleeding while the streaming blood from the gash on his head stung his eyes. He had to get his research to his allies in London. Things, he knew, looked grim._

 

_Damn the full face of the moon! And without a cloud in the sky, she shone with a merciless light, betraying his position in the bare, deciduous forest. Feeling the need to push on, the Watcher gathered his strength and limped a few lengths before hearing the voices of Rhenish men-at-arms. As he moved to hide behind a boulder, the last thing that registered was the crack of his aching skull._

 

—————

 

Buffy flipped through her latest fashion magazine in the crowded waiting area of the car rental office while Giles spoke with the attendant behind the desk about their reservation. After he signed all the paperwork, he made his way back to Buffy, picked up his bags and motioned for her to follow him to pick up their car. She grabbed her purse and her computer bag and followed him into the bright afternoon sun, rolling her suitcase behind her.

 

They passed row after row of perfectly suitable cars when she allowed her frustration to get the better of her. "Giles, where is the damned car?"

 

He double checked the paper in his hand. "Not far now, two more aisles."

 

Buffy grumbled and kept pace with her partner as they approached their destination. Pulling out the key, Giles hit the fob and a beeping sound alerted them as to the position of their car. The Slayer looked up and, with disbelieving wide eyes, muttered, "Um... Giles... that better not be what I think it is."

 

He looked down at her, grinning in satisfaction. Ahead of them sat the silver Porsche 911 convertible gleaming in the sunshine just waiting for someone to take her out for a spin. "Oh come on, it will be fun."

 

"Okay, let me list off how not fun this is. One, we have two suitcases and two computer bags, where are they going to go? Two, Xander is _not_ going to sign off on this expense. And three, contrary to popular belief, the Autobahn does have speed limits and the German police do enforce them!"

 

The last month had been rough with the ending of one particularly harrowing assignment in Oman coupled with the scant thirty-six hour turn around time to prepare for this assignment, and both Buffy and Giles were more than a little cranky.

 

He rounded back to face her, his brows knitted together in annoyance. "One, _I_ am not the one who decided to pack a _trunk with wheels_ for what should be a three day trip. Two, I don't think Xander will notice as we flew economy and we have to share accommodations on this trip because there are no vacancies _anywhere_ during the wine festival season. And three... not that I need them to drive a performance car, but there are areas where there is unrestricted speed on the Autobahn. And… and… four..." He rolled his eyes with annoyance rebutting her numbered list in a similar fashion. " _How_ do you even know that?"

 

"Okay, since when have any of our trips gone according to expectations? Need I remind you only two assignments ago, we both ran out of clean underwear. And it's not a trunk, it's only slightly larger than your _carry-on_ _suitcase!"_

 

“Yes, and we wasted valuable time waiting for it at the luggage carousel!" He interrupted.

 

"Chill, Giles! It was on the conveyer right after we got through immigration. And if Xander can get snippy about _my_ clothing allowance, he'll certainly have a coronary over _your_ Porsche. And how do I know about speed limits on the Autobahn? Remember my ex? Stephen? He sorta got tagged and bagged speeding through a noise restriction area outside of Landstuhl."

 

Giles remembered Stephen, the American Air Force officer stationed at the joint base near Cambridge. Buffy had met him at a club in London and they had dated for about three months before he moved to Germany. Giles had met him on two occasions and Buffy seemed to enjoy the young officer's company, but the nature of her job within the new Council and the fact that Stephen was leaving for his new assignment had cut their budding relationship short. Of course, Giles hadn't liked Stephen. He wasn't sure what it was that grated on him the wrong way, but it was clear from the onset that it wasn't meant to be.

 

At the time, Giles had been seeing a woman named Sandra, which lasted about five months, but he was rarely home, flying across the globe with Buffy, going wherever they were needed as special agents for the Council. Sandra had lost patience with him after a handful of dates during that time and, truthfully, he'd lost interest in her after about the third. He'd just kept telling himself that it was because they'd had so few chances to really follow up after each date, but admittedly he was quite relieved when she'd finally broken things off with him. There was no real connection and he knew upon meeting her that she just wasn’t someone who would be understanding about their whole secret world.

 

Giles sighed, took Buffy’s suitcase from her and placed it in the front boot. His luggage fit as well, and he closed the lid.

 

"I'm shocked!" Buffy commented with wide eyes, duly impressed.

 

"Must we bicker?" he asked as he approached her. "I only thought we might take some time to enjoy things on this assignment and, should Xander balk at the expense, I'll cover the cost. It's not an issue, and I am fairly certain we made money on the per diem for our last three missions, so even then it wouldn't be a hardship."

 

Placing her hand on Giles' forearm, Buffy said, "I am sorry, I wasn't trying to start an argument. I'm just tired. It's not fair to take that out on you."

 

He gave her a small smile. "I am sorry too. I reacted poorly." Picking up their computer bags, he placed them behind his seat. He then opened the passenger door for his companion and gallantly helped her in.

 

—————

 

Once they cleared Frankfurt, they mostly had the Autobahn to themselves and Giles gunned the Porsche along at 125 miles per hour. The car handled like a dream and, after satisfying his need for speed, he left the Autobahn behind, turning off at Koblenz to follow the Mosel River southwest toward their stop for the evening. It was an absolutely gorgeous autumn afternoon and he pressed the button to lower the rag top.

 

Buffy removed the hair tie from her wrist and quickly put her hair back into a ponytail to save it from the ravages of the wind. Giles didn't even take notice, clearly too caught up with his new toy. Admittedly, she was annoyed with him for not thinking of her comfort first, but she couldn't really blame him. Having the top down was definitely a better way to take in the views as they drove through the valley surrounded by hilly vineyards on both sides of the river. Soon they would pass through picturesque towns overlooked by castles and ruins of castles on their journey. And the weather was absolutely perfect for it.

 

She'd never taken him for a car guy, the old Gilesmobile being a complete clunker and the little red tramp being one of those spur of the moment, midlife crisis purchases. He never seemed the sort who indulged in performance sports cars, but she supposed after the last few assignments, he deserved some amusement.

 

Giles, for his part, was caught up in thoughts of their new assignment. A few weeks prior, he'd been contacted by Maximilian Johan Nikolaus Peter von Alten Freiherr von Trier, a gentleman whose family had been of German nobility tracing their roots back to at least the eleventh century. Max had run across a wooden chest containing two ancient manuscripts that had been found together in a leather case during an excavation of the old ruined living quarters of his family's castle. One manuscript bore an unknown seal and the other was inscribed with the name _Roland Giles._ It was after extensive research that Max had contacted Giles as the only living descendant of the author and keeper of the books.

 

Because of work constraints, Giles and his contact had emailed back and forth. Finally Max had sent a photo of the seal, which Giles had immediately recognized as the Council's. It was then that he consulted with Buffy and together they had phoned Xander, indicating that it was important to procure the manuscripts. Xander had wanted to know more before discussing the collection of the manuscripts, but the historian in Giles was champing at the bit to get his hands on them. Buffy, who was always game for unraveling new mysteries, especially anything that might reveal more about her extremely private partner and Watcher, suggested meeting up with "this Max guy and see what's lurking in Giles' family closet." Outvoted, Xander grudgingly signed off on the trip and let them go.

 

"So we’re meeting up with your contact tomorrow?" Buffy called over the roar of the wind and the road noise.

 

"Yes," he answered, caught by surprise when she leaned over the center console and placed her head against his shoulder. "As excited as I am to examine the manuscripts and see what information they hold, I am equal parts knackered and burnt out. About the most I am up for is settling into the B&B, finding a nice little restaurant, drinking a few glasses of wine with dinner, and retiring early," Giles replied with a note of longing.

 

"Sounds good to me," Buffy agreed, before she settled herself back in her seat. She wanted to continue the conversation and ask for more information about their contact and the manuscripts themselves, but the noise was too much to deal with. As it was, she had to lean over and rest her head against his shoulder to hear him above the road noise. Not that she minded the closeness, but they weren't really ones for such intimacy, even though they were constantly on the road together and had shared some tight spaces. 

 

—————

 

They arrived in the town of Bernkastel-Kues and found the Bed and Breakfast they were staying at. Their hosts Karl and Kristine were very welcoming and Karl showed them to their room. Buffy looked around in satisfaction, the suite boasted two bedrooms and a common area.

 

“This is will do quite nicely,” Giles remarked upon his initial inspection of the accommodations.

 

The proprietor smiled and responded, “A bottle of wine awaits on the private balcony and I can recommend a restaurant in the town square, if you like?”

 

“That sounds wonderful,” Buffy answered.

 

“What time would you like to dine?”

 

Giles looked at his watch. “Around 7:30?”

 

“I will make the reservations. It’s about a ten minute walk. Just come downstairs when you are ready to leave and one of us will give you directions.”

 

“Thank you,” Giles and Buffy answered in unison as their host left.

 

Buffy placed her computer bag on the table and continued to look around. Everything about the suite screamed luxury. She walked into the bathroom to check it out and immediately wanted to draw a bubble bath and relax in the whirlpool tub, her exhaustion from all the travel they had been doing lately threatening to catch up with her, but there was a perfectly chilled bottle of wine waiting for her on the balcony.

 

Returning to the main room, she found Giles coming out of one the of the bedrooms. “Both are very nice, do you have a preference?” he asked her.

 

“The only preference I have is that I get to take a relaxing bath tonight. You really need to check out the bathroom.”

 

His eyes held amusement. “I’ll go ahead and take the room on the left.”

 

“Works for me. Come, let's have a glass of wine."

 

Scotch would have been just the thing, but the wine would certainly do. Giles had also been looking forward to some downtime after their back to back to back assignments in Hong Kong, Sydney, and Muscat, Oman. Their frantic forty-eight hours in Muscat had been wrought with peril, and the chase for the Black Orb of Divination had been of the wild goose variety as they narrowly escaped various pitfalls and the local authorities only to finally find themselves at a decisive dead end.

 

Buffy led him onto the balcony and her eyes took in the picturesque river valley with the ruins of a once proud medieval castle overlooking it. The view was absolutely breathtaking. As much as she travelled, Buffy still couldn't quite believe the freedom she had since sealing the Hellmouth, and being in such a beautiful place with her best friend, made it all the more special. 

 

Giles didn't even notice. He immediately found the bottle of wine and took on the task of opening it. After removing the cork, he poured two glasses and handed one to Buffy who had slumped down in one of the chairs.

 

"Thank you," she said taking the glass of the local Riesling from him. "Can you believe the gorgeous view? And it is so peaceful. I mean, we are right off the road, but you would never know it."

 

Her voice held a note of awe and Giles paused to take in their surroundings. It was indeed picturesque and serene. Raising his glass, he acknowledged her assessment, "To stunning views and an evening of relaxation."

 

She smiled and clinked her glass against his before taking a sip. The Riesling was a nice crisp, dry, yet fruity wine that seemed to complement the atmosphere perfectly as they sat on the balcony enjoying the quiet moment.

 

A few minutes later, there was a knock at their door. Giles went to open it and found Karl standing there with a cheese plate. “Your reservations have been made, but they are for eight o’clock. Kristine thought you might be hungry and fruit and cheese are the perfect compliment to wine.”

 

Buffy approached the men with a smile and took the offering from Karl. “That’s so sweet, please thank her for us, and eight is fine for dinner.”

 

Karl smiled and left them to their afternoon. They returned to their balcony and settled in, enjoying the wine, fruit and cheese, and the warm breeze that blew in off the river. 

 

—————

 

The restaurant was just off the market square and Buffy and Giles enjoyed some traditional German fare which was nothing short of spectacular. Afterward they explored their surroundings. The town was lit up and alive with music and dancing and tourists enjoying the wine festival. They decided to join in and indulge in more wine, sampling the different varieties as they worked their way up the wine street. On their way back, Buffy linked her arm through Giles’ and they recapped their evening and spoke of how nice it was to take some time for themselves.

 

It was late when they returned to their lodging and Giles grabbed his sleepwear and his toiletries bag from his suitcase before heading into the bathroom to change. Buffy waited for her turn out on the balcony. There was a chill in the autumn night air, but she didn't mind it. The entire afternoon and evening had been wonderful. They had splurged a bit and exceeded their per diem, but it was what she needed - good food, spectacular wine, and her Watcher to share it with and, seeing Giles smile and laugh, she knew it was what he needed as well.

 

"Buffy, the bathroom is free," he called, not finding her in the common area.

 

“Ok, thanks!” she replied. She sat for a few more minutes, enjoying the sounds of the evening songbirds and the gentle lapping of the river. When she finally wandered into the living room, she found Giles sitting on the sofa with the TV on, watching the late news in German. "Anything interesting?" she asked as she continued towards the bathroom.

 

"The weather is supposed to be gorgeous through early next week."

 

"Lucky us," she replied happily. “I’m this close to blocking out next week in my calendar and telling Xander anything new can wait. Wanna take some time to just explore our surroundings once we finish up with this assignment?”

 

That thought really appealed to Giles. After all, he had the Porsche convertible, and it would be a shame to not take advantage of it for a few more days. There were plenty of beautiful towns and attractions in the region to check out and lots of wine to sample along the river. Plus, there was a certain Slayer standing before him looking very earnest.

 

“Why not?” he replied congenially.

 

Buffy flashed him an appreciative smile, before closing the door behind her, the bubbles and water jets calling her name.

 

When she returned an hour later, she found him asleep on the sofa, the TV off and a book on his lap. A relaxed and sleeping Giles was always adorable. Kneeling down before him, she lightly shook his knee. “Giles,” she murmured, careful not to startle him.

 

He opened his eyes stared into the gentle, mossy depths of her eyes. Buffy was crouched before him in a t-shirt and her pyjama bottoms, looking fresh and squeaky clean from her bath.

 

“Time for bed,” she stated simply.

 

He blinked a few times, trying to process her words, and then came to the proper understanding as the fog lifted. His cheeks flamed red and he quickly looked down at his hands, “Yes, of course. I must be more tired than I realized.”

 

When they reached their doors, Buffy turned around and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Night, Giles."

 

Startling at her touch, he stood silent for a few extra heartbeats. “Goodnight, Buffy,” he replied softly as he watched her retreat into her room.

 

—————

 

Over strong coffee and a delightful breakfast of assorted rolls, cold cuts, and cheeses which were accompanied by a soft boiled egg, Buffy and Giles discussed the plans for the day. Their appointment with Max wasn't until late morning and they could take their time with breakfast and catch up on their emails and reports. Once finished, Kristine sent them back up to their room with a pot of coffee and the two settled on the sofa with their laptops and enjoyed some much needed personal admin time.

 

After replying to Willow’s latest email, Buffy looked at the clock on the screen and turned to Giles. He was deep in thought and going over his notes regarding the manuscripts. "We should probably get going if we're meeting Max the book guy in about an hour,” she suggested, closing the lid of her laptop.

 

Giles startled and looked at his watch. "Oh yes." He closed up his computer and placed it in his bag.

 

"This was a really nice and relaxing way to start the day," she said, getting herself ready.

 

He looked up at her while tying his shoe. "It was. I can't remember the last time I slept so well and just took time to enjoy the morning, even if it was catching up on stuff for the office.”

 

"Me neither. We should insist on it as part of our routine. No more crazy, hectic assignments!”

 

He laughed and shook his head. “It’s a nice dream.”

 

“It is,” she agreed wistfully as she picked up her purse and her computer bag. "Still, it was nice this morning, hanging out with you."

 

Giles grabbed his things and placed a hand on the small of her back, ushering her out the door. "Would that all our assignments were as leisurely as this one has started."

 

Buffy let out a soft sigh."If only.”

 

—————

 

"Huh, this can't be right, Giles. I thought you said this guy was German aristocracy." Buffy stated in confusion as they pulled into the drive of a rather ordinary house on the outskirts of one of the Mosel towns.

 

Giles put the car in park and reached for his notebook. "A descendent of the aristocratic class," he corrected. "The Germans abolished noble privileges and titles in 1919, although titles can be used as last names. Like our friend Max von Alten Freiherr von Trier - Freiherr meaning Baron."

 

Buffy was always impressed with how well Giles could multitask. He had his nose buried in his notes as he spouted off that bit of information to her. "Good to know," she answered. "But you said there was a castle."

 

Looking up from his notes, Giles mumbled dryly, "Well, this house is bigger than the others around it."

 

“Jeez, Giles!” Buffy exclaimed as she tried to curtail her laughter.

 

Secretly, he was pleased with himself. Her laughter was like a balm for his soul. Far too often she'd found herself the victim of cruel circumstance, yet she still managed to find the joy in life, and though things had been good between them since they’d sealed the Hellmouth, it warmed his heart to know he could elicit such a response from her.

 

"This is the correct address," Giles confirmed after consulting his notes. "I thought there was a castle too. He'd said the manuscripts turned up in an archaeological dig of his family's castle."

 

"Huh, maybe he is slumming it with the rest of us peasants.”

 

“There aren’t any peasants anymore,” he stated with infinite reserves of patience. “Perhaps the family ran out of money, invested poorly, or lost it in the war. Whatever the circumstance, it's none of our business."

 

"True," Buffy agreed, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let's go meet a baron."

 

He rolled his eyes at her teasing and climbed out of the Porsche.

 

—————

 

"Ah, Mr Giles? Miss Summers?" a tall man in his mid-thirties queried with an upper class British accent.

 

Buffy wasn't sure what she was expecting of the man who answered the door, but the six foot two, light brown haired, blue eyed, bronzed Teutonic knight standing before her with a welcoming smile wasn't one of them, and his accent certainly did not compute.

 

Giles looked equally taken back, but did his best to recover. "Yes."

 

"So pleased to meet you," he stated, extending his hand to shake theirs. "I am Max von Alten. Please come in." He stepped aside to let them into the house. “And please excuse the mess. My wife took the children to visit her parents and I haven't had a chance to tidy."

 

Buffy looked around. There was no mess. Aside from a few stuffed animals sitting on the couch, the Lego castle standing on a small table, and a box of toys in the corner of the living room he led them too, she never would have known he had children.

 

"May I get you anything to drink?"

 

"Some water would be great," Buffy replied and Giles indicated the same, his eyes wandering over the bookshelves to the right of neatly organized desk. Max excused himself and headed off toward the kitchen.

 

Buffy sat down on the couch, picked up a stuffed teddy bear, and cuddled it as she sat back to make herself comfortable. Giles wandered over to one of the windows. The garden was large and there was a swing set in the back for the children to play on. The house was situated above the town, providing him a spectacular view of the river valley. 

 

Max came in with two glasses of water and gave them to his guests. The three of them began by exchanging pleasantries and small talk before Max started in on the history of the area and how his ancestors had owned and governed the lands from the eleventh century until the aristocracy was abolished in the early twentieth century. The von Alten family stronghold located at the top of the next hill over had been demolished in the mid 1600s and he had hired an archaeological firm to excavate the ruins and see if they could find any old family relics and document their findings.

 

"Would you like to go over and see the site?" he asked.

 

“That would be great," Giles answered, although he was more anxious to get his hands on the manuscripts.

 

"Actually, could you please explain something to me before we go?" Buffy asked, her curiosity finally getting the better of her.

 

"Of course," Max replied.

 

"What's with the British accent? If I met you on the street I wouldn't think you are German at all. I know it's rather personal, but I really can't get past it."

 

Giles rolled his eyes at her intrusion.

 

Max gave her an indulgent smile. “I have familial ties in Great Britain that go back several generations and my father followed his British cousins to Cambridge for university. While there, he met my mother. After they were married, they moved back to Germany, and as a boy, I spent most of my summers with my mother’s family at the seaside near Brighton," he explained.

 

"Well, we have something in common," Buffy said with an answering smile and Giles couldn't even begin to fathom what that could possibly be. "I'm from California. I grew up on the beach too." 

 

Max laughed and Giles looked away to hide his amusement. He should have known that Buffy would lighten the mood. She constantly put their clients at ease during their meetings. Of course, she also satisfied her curiosity.

 

 "Then I am sure your seashell collection must be as vast as mine," Max answered in good humor.

 

—————

 

When they arrived at the castle, there really was very little left of it in comparison to the other castles along the river. The walls, the great hall, and the family living quarters were mostly intact even though the buildings had been completely gutted.

 

"Tell me, Max," Giles began as they walked past a group of archaeologists working in a section near the site of the old chapel. "How did you or your team find the manuscripts in such fine condition?"

 

"Ah, well, you see, it’s all rather cliché, really. About six months ago one of the boys from the town had been hiking up this way when he got caught in a storm. He found shelter within the walls, but the storm worsened with winds gusting to dangerous speeds, the rain coming down in sheets, and the temperature dropping quickly. With little roofing, the boy was forced to find refuge in a tunnel area near the south wall. He ended up following the tunnel to the end where he sat bored and started to pick at the mortar. Soon he loosened some stones and found a wooden door behind them. Without the proper tools, he couldn't really do more, but when he returned to his home, he told his father, who in turn got in touch with my office at the university. At the first opportunity, I went to investigate and he showed me his discovery. After consulting with one of my colleagues who is an archaeologist, I had him start an investigation. Several weeks later, we opened the door and it was like opening a portal to the past. Nothing had been disturbed for three hundred and fifty years or so.”

 

"Remarkable," Giles commented. "I presume the manuscripts are not here now."

 

"No, of course not, Rupert, but I figured you would want to see the castle first, your background being in history and archaeology."

 

“Absolutely!” Giles responded with enthusiasm. “Lead on.”

 

Buffy followed the men into the caverns below to the small room that had once been concealed. She looked around. There wasn’t anything extraordinary about it. Giles seemed into it, running his fingers along the wall.

 

“What else was found in here?” Giles asked.

 

“A table and a chair, a beautiful writing slope, a few wooden chests, two of which contained household items, the smallest one holding the leather case containing the manuscripts. In one of the chests, we did find gold and other treasures. Research shows the castle was under siege during the Thirty Year’s War. It is believed that my ancestor Friedrich Johannes sealed the belongings down here below the living quarters to keep them out of the hands of the enemy. Several months later, the castle was destroyed and the baron was killed when a cannonball came over one of the ruined walls.”

 

“I am surprised no one found it since,” Giles commented. “Especially when the castle was mined for stone.”

 

“It was well known that Friedrich Johannes had sent his wife and children away several months before the final battle along with the household staff and most of their possessions per the terms of a truce between the warring factions. I assume most people thought that he was only protecting the lands and the castle at that point, that everything of value left with his family.”

 

“Any ghosts?” Buffy asked, shivering in the cold. Her lightweight cardigan doing nothing to protect her from the dank, cool air. Giles reached out and squeezed her shoulder, giving her a sympathetic smile.

 

“If you believe that sort of thing,” Max answered offhandedly. “Every castle has a ghost story or three associated with it. There was enough bloodshed here over the centuries to warrant a few, I would imagine. I have never seen a ghost myself, however until recently, I never really had a reason to come up here. Occasionally, when I was young, my parents would bring my brother and I up here for picnics, hiking, and to explore the ruins. I did propose to my wife up here, mostly because of the romantic views.” He grinned at the memories. “But the children are at an age where they are more interested in theme parks than restored castles. Who can blame them, really?”

 

They headed back out into the open air, and Buffy was glad for the warmth of the sunlight. They rounded a corner and she jumped onto an intact part of the wall to get a better view of the river valley below. “Hey, I think I can see your house from here, Max,” she called back over her shoulder.

 

“It’s not mine,” Max countered as he approached the wall. “We are currently renting it. We actually live in the outskirts of Heidelberg. I am a political science professor at the university and my wife worked as an interpreter to the general staff at the US Army base before our second child was born. She stays home with the children now and I am currently on sabbatical until the excavations are finished.”

 

“Doctor Baron Max von Alten?”

 

“Buffy…“ Giles chided gently as he approached the wall.

 

“Doctor certainly,” the other man answered, indulging in Buffy’s teasing. He’d taken to her like a big brother.

 

Giles gallantly offered her his hand and he tilted his head. She answered him with an indulgent look and graciously took his hand to hop down, refusing to let it go as the three of them turned to continue their tour of the ruins, much to Giles surprise and delight.

 

“I know the whole aristocracy thing was disbanded before the flappers started dancing the Charleston,” she began, addressing Max and acknowledging Giles’ earlier lesson. “But it’s still kind of cool that you have this huge pedigree. I mean, I know nothing of my family tree past my grandparents’ generation. My parents met at Northwestern University, moved to California after graduation because they both accepted jobs in LA, and now it’s just me and my sister.”

 

Gazing down at her, Giles squeezed her hand in understanding. He hadn’t thought of the reasons behind her preoccupation with their host’s genealogy before, and with her mother’s death, her father’s abandonment, the destruction of Sunnydale, their constant globe trotting, and her sister being away at university, Buffy didn’t have any roots anymore. When her eyes met his, she gave him a soft smile and leaned her head against his shoulder. For one quick indulgent moment, he let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her.

 

—————

 

Max finished showing them around the rest of the castle complex before he drove them down into the town below. They stopped at a bank and Buffy and Giles waited in the car while he went in to retrieve the manuscripts from the safety deposit box he’d locked them away in.

 

“You know, history really isn’t all that dull when it’s not just some dates and a tagline in some boring old text book,” Buffy commented. “And Max has been pretty generous about sharing all this stuff with us. The castle was very cool.”

 

From his seat in the front of the car, Giles turned to reply. “Yes, he’s a very gracious host.”

 

“I like him,” she said matter-of-factly. “Which is more than I can say for the contacts we’ve had to deal with on our last three assignments.”

 

“Olaf the Troll would have been better,” Giles retorted dryly.

 

Buffy laughed. “You weren’t even there for that!”

 

“No, I wasn’t, but the destruction that was left behind was a gift that kept on giving.”

 

They shared a soft look between them, remembering a time when they were in sync and closer than they had ever been, before her death and the bleakness and the mess that resulted from her resurrection. He reached out and took her hand in his, his thumb lightly caressing the back of her hand, and she could have melted right there. With all the traveling they’d done together over the last year, she’d started to develop some serious warm fuzzies for him. And the dam broke for her yesterday in the car, when she snuggled against him to hear him better over the road noise. Now it felt as though she couldn’t keep her head above the waterline when she was with him.

 

Max returned and Giles and Buffy jumped apart at the intrusion when the door opened. He handed over a large Ziplock bag with the leather case enclosed within to Giles as he climbed into the car. “Okay, now it is back to the house.”

 

Giles’ eyes met hers and she gave him a shy smile as she slid her fingers through her hair and tucked it behind her ear.

 

“So, uh, Max,” Buffy addressed the other man. “Giles said that his ancestor was alive during the 13th century. That puts those manuscripts about four hundred years older than the destruction of the castle. What happened to them in the meantime?”

 

“Good question. I am hoping you will discover the answer and tell me,” he replied. “I have to say that I am very curious about that myself."

 

“As if it would be in our best interest to abandon our resident expert,” Giles stated, settling back into his seat and inspecting the ornately decorated leather case through the bag. As curious as he was about it, he was more curious about the exchange he’d just had with Buffy. He’d never taken such liberties, touching her in so intimate a way, but something had changed between them over the past twenty-four hours - no, something had been changing for some time now - and it suddenly felt right to act on the feelings he’d been harboring for her for over the past year.

 

—————

 

Using Max’s dining room table as a base of operations, Giles put on a pair of cotton gloves and carefully removed the leather case from the bag. It was more of a satchel and had been dyed a rich cordovan in color. The decorative punch work was ornate and the buckles and strap ends were cast silver. Clearly it belonged to someone of status.

 

“Looking at the ornate pattern, I would say that this satchel is original to the timeframe. Whether it belonged to Roland or one of your ancestors though, Max, remains to be seen,” Giles stated upon his initial inspection. “The leather is dry and brittle, so we’ll have to be careful handling it.”

 

Buffy and Max put on their gloves while Giles extracted one of the manuscripts from its hold. It was housed in its own leather case and when he removed it, his eyes widened at the magnificently decorated book before him with the Council seal recreated in cloisonné.

 

“When I opened the manuscript, I couldn’t figure out what its purpose was. Perhaps a roster of sorts? At first I thought it was a record of births, marriages, and deaths, like the churches keep of their communities, but the book itself clearly is too ornate for a parish church, maybe a diocese,” Max proffered as Giles carefully opened the book. “It contains names of women with three dates and the name of a man next to them, which I assumed to be her husband. But that didn’t make sense because one: a record like that would be unheard of in a patriarchal society; and two: the women’s names are multi-regional, spanning the continents of Europe, Africa, and Asia. Considering this book predates the travels of the Polos, it makes it rather extraordinary.”

 

Buffy’s eyes immediately caught Giles’, realizing the implications of the information Max had just given them and she rose from her seat to stand behind her Watcher, wanting to get a better look at the entries. She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned over him to inspect the text as he carefully turned the vellum pages, her breath shallow against his ear in anticipation of what they might find.

 

Giles, shifted in his seat trying mask the shiver that ran through his body as a reaction to the warmth of her breath against his neck and her general nearness, but was ultimately saved by the sound of Max’s mobile ringing, and they all looked up from the book.

 

“Please excuse me,” Max said politely as he stood up and left the room to take the call.

 

When he was out of earshot, Buffy stated quietly, “Slayers. It’s a list of Slayers and their Watchers.”

 

“Yes,” Giles responded, his excitement evident in his voice.

 

“I thought Slayers were just thought of as weapons, that the Council didn’t need to know their names.”

 

“I suspect that is a rather recent and modern interpretation. Or perhaps one that arose with the widespread adaptation of Christianity, the movement to worship a single deity interpreted as male, thus putting emphasis on the patriarchy.” Giles looked at the dates next to one of the entries.

 

“From the records, I would say that the Slayer was rather well thought of during the beginning of the Middle Ages and through to Roland’s time, if not longer. The earliest name is from the 700s. I would assume there were ledgers older than this one, although I am sure they are lost to us now.”

 

“Yeah, this is an extremely lucky find,” Buffy stated as she sat down in the chair next to Giles. “Now we just need to know what Roland was doing with it.”

 

The Watcher pulled the other manuscript from the satchel and removed its cloth covering. It was decidedly plain in contrast to the other book. No jewels, no enamel, no punch work on the leather cover, and no metal buckle and strap end. Just a leather strip that wound around the cover to keep it from opening.

 

“I daresay this is rather different from its companion,” Giles noted, as he unbound the strap from around the leather. Opening the book to the first page, he stared at the inscription:

 

_Mihi nomen est Roland Giles, Normannicus eques, quartus filius senioris Baudouin Giles, Baronis de Clara. Post mortem, redde hunc librum meo cognationi. Mulieri operor. RG_

 

“What does it say?” Buffy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her at Giles’ continued silence.

 

“It reads, ‘My name is Roland Giles, knight of Normandy, fourth son of Baudouin Giles, Baron of Cléres. Upon my death, return this book to my family. For her I serve.’ Then he signed it with his initials.” Giles looked up at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “What we have here, my dear, is Roland’s Watcher diary.”

 

“I apologize,” Max stated as he returned to the dining room. “That was my wife. She and the girls will be staying the night at her parents’. My daughters have their grandparents wrapped around their little fingers.”

 

“As it should be,” Buffy returned congenially.

 

“Of course,” he responded with a nod before addressing Giles, “I see you have your ancestor’s book, Rupert.”

 

“Yes,” Giles responded. “It’s absolutely extraordinary to hold something so… significant.”

 

“Roland left specific instructions to have the book returned to his family. I am not sure why that didn’t happen, perhaps there are some answers in there.”

 

“I am hoping. Unfortunately, the text is written in some sort of code. It doesn’t look too difficult if you have knowledge of Medieval Latin and Old French as I do, so there is hope in cracking it, but it will take time.”

 

Buffy chuckled to herself. Of course he had the knowledge, he was Giles, Watcher, scholar, ex-librarian, and he held a masters in archaeology and two PhD’s in history and linguistics, although she had to find that bit of information out on her own… well, okay, Willow had told her back during high school, after she had hacked into his files in the school’s computer system, but Giles wasn’t one to brag.

 

“Our records from that time are a bit sketchy. There is a discrepancy in the dates of rule at the time as to whether it was Hugo or his son Konrad who was in power.”

 

“Could be a reason why the book got lost in time,” Buffy stated, offering a solution. “Roland was dealing with one of them and then there was a succession and the one didn’t say anything to the other about Roland’s stuff.”

 

“Very possible,” Max replied. “Rupert, you look like you are ready to dive in and crack that code.”

 

Giles looked up from the book with a startled look on his face, and Buffy thought that if Max hadn’t called him by his given name, he might not even have noticed that he was being included in the conversation.

 

“Hmm? Erm… yes. I thought I might have a go at it before we have to leave for the evening.”

 

“Of course. Why don’t I run into town and bring us back some food. Do you have any preference?”

 

Giles’ eyes met Buffy’s and he deferred to her. 

 

“Anything, really. We’re not picky,” she answered. “Would you like me to come with you?”

 

“No, no, please stay. I shouldn’t be too long.”

 

—————

 

After about five minutes of watching Giles immerse himself in his work, Buffy stood up, stretched, and pulled out her laptop. The least she could do was start on the reports she owed Xander. After ten minutes had passed and she hadn’t finished more than two sentences on the after action report for their Sydney assignment, she decided to excuse herself to the bathroom. Along the way, she noticed the family photos hanging on the walls and stopped to admire them.

 

It was clear that Max’s world revolved around his family. His wife was stunning and his beautiful daughters kept him busy. There were winter photos with snowmen, summer photos at the beach, pictures of his young girls as babies and toddlers, and the obligatory couple photos. She smiled at the girls’ antics in one recent photo taken over the summer. They had just buried their father in the sand.

 

Before returning to the dining room, Buffy stepped into the family room where they had met Max earlier in the day and picked up the stuffed teddy bear she had snuggled earlier. Everything about the house that she had seen felt inviting and comfortable. _Settled._

 

“Everything okay?” Giles asked, leaning against the doorway.

 

Buffy looked up at him, an enigmatic expression on her face. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I didn’t think you’d notice I was gone.”

 

“I ran into a snag and needed a break, and suddenly you weren’t there anymore,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“They are awfully settled in here for it being a temporary place.”

 

Giles looked around, taking in the decor and the personal items. “Well, they have been here for six months and are clearly planning to be here for a while. I am fairly certain Max has his sabbatical through the end of the year, if not through the end of the following spring term, so I would imagine the team will dig until the weather changes and pick up again after the winter months.”

 

Giles could be very literal at times and Buffy was amused by his reply. “I haven’t even assembled all the furniture I bought a year ago for my flat.”

 

“I suppose it is different with young children,” Giles pondered as he took a seat next to Buffy on the sofa. “I imagine that parents would want to make sure that their children feel secure in their new home. Our situation is very different. We are on the road so much, that the few days we do finally make it home, the last thing on our minds is home improvement of any kind.”

 

“True. There rarely is much turn around time between one assignment and the next these days.” They were quiet for a few moments before Buffy started again, “You know, I always thought Sunnydale would be it for me. I mean it was different in LA when things were okay between Mom and Dad before I was called. We traveled a bit. We did the Hawaii thing, went to a few resorts down in Mexico, tried skiing in Canada one winter. But after Mom and I moved to Sunnydale, I just thought, this is it. No vacations, no more travel. Live and die on the Hellmouth.”

 

“Buffy-“

 

“And I did… twice. But when Sunnydale imploded, it was like… I could do anything, go anywhere in the world. I wasn’t tied to one spot anymore. As long as I took care of Dawn and the new Slayers, I could travel and see the world.”

 

“And you have.”

 

“Sometimes not the most touristy areas,” she agreed with a laugh as she hugged the teddy bear close. “But I think now… now it’s time to slow down. All the traveling is getting old.” 

 

Giles leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. The truth was he was tired of living out of his suitcase as well, but he figured as long as they were needed, and as long as she needed him, he would continue to do his job.

 

At his silence, Buffy said with a nervous laugh, “And maybe I just need a vacation and to see where things are afterwards. I mean, we’ve been on the go now for over a month, the ten hour layover in London to do laundry and swap out the wardrobe notwithstanding.” She rose from her seat, preparing to head back into the dining room where the manuscripts and the unbroken code waited for them.

 

Giles grabbed her wrist and looked up at her. When her questioning eyes met his, he answered, “I think that’s a wise idea. Are you still up for taking the week off and checking out our surroundings?”

 

Her face lit up, chasing the bleakness away. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

 

“Then we have a plan. Anything else can be decided later.” He let go of her and stood up.

 

“Giles…” she stated, quickly glancing down at the wrist he’d been holding. “I promise I won’t leave you to do this alone. We’re a team.”

 

He tilted his head as he placed his index finger beneath her chin to raise her eyes to his. Buffy’s knees went weak at his touch wondering if he might kiss her, and she placed a steadying hand on his forearm, but as soon as he had her attention he said, “I’m on the verge of burn out too, Buffy. I think we deserve some time off to enjoy ourselves and reassess our roles in the Council. Or at the very least our schedules.”

 

A little disappointed, she replied, “Sounds good. You ready to hit the books again?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

There was a gleam in his eye and she caught it before he turned. “You’ve had a breakthrough, haven’t you?”

 

Chuckling, he answered, “Perhaps. One way to find out.”

 

—————

 

Twenty minutes later, Max returned with the food while Giles was furiously working on cracking the code. Buffy had gone back to working on her report to allow him some quiet to concentrate.

 

“I am sorry. That took much longer than I expected.” Max said, setting the food down at the far end of the dining table. “I forgot about it being the weekend _and_ wine festival season. How is it going?”

 

Giles looked up from his work and shook his head. “Unfortunately I’ve hit a few snags, but I feel I am making progress.” He placed Roland’s diary back into its covering and placed both books back into the satchel for safe keeping.

 

“God, that smells great!” Buffy declared. “What did you bring us? I am starved.”

 

“Ah, well, some wine festival food. Grilled pork steaks, chips, salad. And I picked up a couple bottles of the local wine.”

 

Collectively, they set the table and sat down to their meal, discussing events of the day and sharing stories of their lives, or in the case of Buffy and Giles, edited stories of their lives. As they finished up the meal, Max poured the last of the wine into their glasses.

 

Dreading the subject, but knowing they needed to discuss it, Buffy cleared her throat. “So, I am afraid we do need to get down to the business end of the evening.”

 

Max stared at her in confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

 

“The books,” she clarified.

 

He still looked at her as though she had grown two heads and a prehensile tail.

 

“How much do you want for them?”

 

“I don’t want anything for the books. They belong to Rupert. Or at least the diary does at the request of his ancestor. The other… it was in Roland’s possession when he died, which also makes it Rupert’s now.”

 

It was Buffy’s turn to look at Max as though he had sprouted horns. “Why? You found something that is virtually priceless. By rights it belongs to you. Museums around the world would especially be interested in the ledger and scholars would no doubt be interested in Roland’s book if for no other reason than for the code and mystery it provides.”

 

Max leaned back in his chair and fingered his glass of wine. “Roland wished for the book to return to his family. That much was clear from the inscription at the beginning of the book. Rupert is the last known descendant of Baudouin Giles’ line. For whatever reason, my family held onto this book for almost 400 years before it was sealed up and then found six months ago. It’s the least I can do.”

 

Buffy leaned forward in her seat. “I don’t mean any offense, Max, but…”

 

“What do I want?”

 

She didn’t want to seem impertinent, but she’d dealt with many different types of people over her career as a Slayer with regards to artifacts both magical and mundane, and never once had someone just given something away without wanting something in exchange. “Well, yes.”

 

“When you figure out what happened to Roland, how he came to our castle, and what part my ancestors played, please let me know.”

 

“That’s it?” she asked, a little shocked.

  
  
“That’s it,” Max answered, his expression open and the tone of his voice final before addressing Giles, “Our families are entwined, Rupert, and I hope that we can be friends.”

 

Giles had been listening intently. Often he let Buffy play the part of the heavy in their dealings with their clients, so her direct questioning of Max von Alten wasn’t unexpected nor unwelcome. Leaning across the table, he offered his hand to the other man. “Friends. And thank you. Whatever I learn, I will share with you.”

 

The men shook hands and they all finished the wine. After cleaning up, Giles returned to work on breaking Roland’s code. When the clock chimed nine, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

 

“There isn’t anymore I can do tonight,” he stated as he stretched his back.

 

“Do you feel like you have made anymore progress?” Max asked.

 

“That remains to be seen,” Giles answered. “I think I stared at the same damned three words for the last hour. Perhaps I shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine.”

 

“Do you want me to drive back to the B&B, Giles?” Buffy asked.

 

“No, no. I only hired the car under the one driver. I assure you, I am fine,” he replied as he placed the book back into the satchel and the satchel back into the airtight plastic bag.

 

“Well, you have my contact info. If there is anything I can do to help, I am happy to do so,” Max offered as he once again shook hands with Giles. 

 

Buffy shunned his hand and pulled him into a hug. “It was wonderful to meet you, Max, thank you so much for your generous hospitality and the manuscripts. And thank your family for letting us have the day with you.”

 

Max smiled, “It was my pleasure.”

 

Once they were in the car and heading back to Bernkastel-Kues along the river, Buffy asked Giles, “You’ve already deciphered the code, haven’t you?”

 

He watched the road ahead of him with that clever little smile Buffy loved so much tugging at the edge of his lips. “Of course.”

 

—————

 

When the sun streamed through the curtains the next morning, Giles rolled over, stretched, and laced his hands behind his head, focusing his eyes on the ceiling as he replayed the drive back to the B&B the previous evening.

 

_Several kilometers down the road, Buffy turned in her seat. “Why didn’t you want to tell Max you’d broken the code?”_

 

_Flexing his hands on the steering wheel, Giles answered, “Just managing expectations. Our objective was to procure the manuscripts. They are now in our possession. Mission over.”_

 

_“Well, not entirely. We still need to figure out what happened: why Roland had the ledger of Slayers and their Watchers and what he was doing at the von Alten castle. And any other information we can get from his diary.”_

 

_“Eventually,” he answered, “and as curious as I am about Roland, the books, and the connection with the von Alten’s, they all can wait. As of now, we are on holiday. If there is some time and I feel like decoding and translating the diary I will, but what is more important at the moment, is that we take some time to relax and explore the lovely Mosel River Valley, drink lots of wine, and not think about the Council, where our next mission will take us, or worry about anything beyond right now.”_

 

_Buffy made a happy noise and leaned over the center console to hug him. “Thanks, Giles!”_

 

_In response he bent his head and leaned it against the top of hers and placed his right hand over her arm resting across his torso, enjoying the moment until it was time to shift gears again._

 

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. They were due down in the dining room for breakfast in forty-five minutes. He stretched again, put on his robe, and headed to the bathroom, where he nearly ran into Buffy just outside the door.

 

“I beg your pardon,” he said just inches from her.

 

She sheepishly looked up at him. “No, it’s totally my fault. I wasn’t looking. I came barging out of my room. I was… uh… just…” she returned, pointing to the bathroom.

 

“Oh, by all means. I can wait.”

 

“Ok. Give me a minute and then you can shower first. I take longer.”

 

That was certainly true. Buffy felt that showers and baths were luxuries and was determined to spend as much time as she could indulging under the hot water.

 

“I’ll put the coffee on.”

 

Buffy reached up and kissed his cheek. “You are a god.”

 

As she turned into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, Giles reached up and covered his cheek in surprise. It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d kissed him, but it had now happened twice in the span of eight hours. He walked over to the kitchenette and set about to making the coffee, filling the pot with water from the kitchenette sink and contemplating the return to their rooms the night before.

 

Saying goodnight at their respective doors had been more than a little awkward.

 

After he had set the manuscripts in the safe in the cupboard, he and Buffy stayed up talking for another hour. They’d kept the closeness they had found in the car as they sat on the sofa and after her third attempt at hiding a yawn, he’d stood up and taken her hands in his, gently helping her up before leading her down the hall to their rooms.

 

And suddenly saying goodnight had been something neither of them wanted to do. The tension between them was palpable, and after she’d hugged him, she’d pulled away, looking up at him in what could only have been described as anticipation. In a moment of hesitation, the one where he debated whether he would actually kiss her, she’d stood on her tiptoes, softly kissed his cheek and bade him goodnight, leaving him standing in the hall silently cursing the uncertainty that had gripped him.

 

Seeing him standing before the coffee maker clearly in thinking mode, Buffy wandered up beside him and asked, “Does it need help?”

 

Giles jumped at the intrusion to his thoughts and quickly moved to retrieve a cup for her. “Uh, no. The machine seems to be in working order,” Giles answered, placing the cup down on the counter. “The coffee will be ready in a few minutes. I’ll… just go have that shower now.”

 

She watched him retreat towards the bathroom and shook her head in amusement. Once the coffee was done, she added some cream and sugar, sat down on the sofa, and turned on the TV. The local weatherman still predicted sun and mild temperatures - at least that is what she figured he was saying with the graphic displayed next to him - which was good, because they were going to visit the local castle after breakfast. Picking up the castle’s brochure on the table before her, she read up on it while drinking her coffee and waiting on Giles to finish.

 

“All yours, Buffy,” he called a few minutes later and she leaned back to look over the sofa and found him walking down the hall towards his room in just a towel wrapped around his waist and using the smaller towel to dry his hair, his strong back and long, lean legs exposed and still a little damp. She tamped down the soft moan that longed to escape and ran to the shower as soon as she heard his door close.

 

When Buffy emerged from her room after her shower, she found Giles sitting at the desk with Roland’s diary and translating a coded page into Latin in his notebook. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and his glasses were sitting neglected off to one side as he scrawled across the page.

 

“I _thought_ you might be ready to head down to breakfast,” she teased lightly, knowing Giles never would’ve been able to resist the call of the research.

 

He looked up from his work, a blush rising from his collar, and screwed the cap back on onto his fountain pen. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure how long you would be.”

 

“And you couldn’t have read one of the touristy brochures our hosts have thoughtfully left for us here?”

 

“Well, we know we are visiting the ruins of Landshut Castle today, so I thought why not get a head start on the book.” He stood up and placed the diary back into it’s cloth cover before returning it to the safe. “I’m ready now.”

 

—————

 

They mostly had the the ruins to themselves as they took in the spectacular views high above the Mosel valley. Along one lonely section of the castle walls, they stopped to admire the landscape before them. The tidy rows of grapevines strung along the hillsides and the mix of centuries of architecture below them created a most picturesque scene and Buffy pulled out her camera to capture the memories.

 

She had taken some candid photos of Giles earlier as they walked around the castle grounds and took in their surroundings, looking relaxed and as handsome as ever in a pair of jeans, a soft grey v-neck henley and his well worn black leather jacket. Her only complaint was that he was wearing his sunglasses which hid his eyes.

 

“Hey, Giles,” she called, getting his attention as he stood in the diffused light beneath a tree. “Since we’re doing the touristy thing, stand over there and let me get a couple shots. Oh, and take off the sunnies.”

 

If it had been anyone other than Buffy, he would’ve told them to sod off, but she was enjoying herself tremendously and he decided to break out a couple of silly poses for her as she snapped away before she insisted he stand for some serious photos. Then he motioned for her to give him the camera and when she handed it over, he took a few of her overlooking the valley below as a soft breeze swept through her hair. She looked a vision in the form fitting, tie-at-the-waist, diaphanous sea foam green dress she wore with the off white sweater and he wanted to capture the moment forever.

 

“So what did you learn about good old Roland this morning?” she asked in between poses. “It looks like you got through decoding several pages,”

 

“I thought we agreed to not talk shop,” he answered as he looked over the camera.

 

“Well, you were the one who decided to actually do some work this morning. I just figured I would make conversation.”

 

“And here, I thought I was the snarky one,” he replied in good humor, avoiding her original question as he snapped away.

 

She grinned mischievously at him. “I wasn’t being snarky, Mr Sarcastic, that is your area. I was merely being sassy.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he quickly took her photo, for blackmail purposes, of course, before pocketing the camera.

 

His green eyes sparkled dangerously as he stalked towards her. “More like bratty,” he countered, reaching for her, but she quickly evaded his grasp.

 

“I don’t think this is the time or place for training, Giles,” she taunted playfully. “So tell me about Roland.”

 

Giles changed tactics and casually leaned against the wall. “No, no,” he teased. “We are on a strict, ‘no shop talk policy’ at the moment.”

 

“Technically Roland _isn’t_ shop talk,” she rebutted.

 

Placing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Giles asked, “Oh no? How do you figure?”

 

“Well, he is an ancestor of yours, which puts him in the category of family, and therefore an acceptable topic of conversation!” she declared smugly, joining him in leaning against the wall, her arms crossed in satisfaction.

 

Lightening fast, Giles removed his hands from his pockets and grabbed her wrists, pulling her close to him and grinning down at her dangerously, like Sylvester after he’s caught Tweety Bird. “Oh you are clever, aren’t you? Clever and sassy.”

 

“You know I can break this hold,” she breathed, finding herself mesmerized by the confident and self-satisfied look on his face.

 

He bent his head towards hers, his eyes tracking down to her mouth, then down to his hands where he held her wrists before raising them to meet her eyes again. He moved closer towards her as if to kiss her, but then changed course and murmured huskily against her ear, “I know,” before letting her go and pulling back a little so he could see her, a roguish grin donning his sensual lips. 

 

She closed her eyes and parted her lips slightly in anticipation of the kiss that never came. When she heard his voice and felt his breath against her ear, she couldn’t help the shiver that rippled through her body. Opening her eyes, Buffy found herself staring into his intense green ones, his pupils dilated with desire. She reached up to stroke his cheek and he took her hand in his, dragging her fingertips ever so lightly over his velvety lips.

 

Her breath hitched in her throat and when he slowly brought his mouth down to hers, she met them in the most sensuous series of little kisses. When they ended, the couple was ensconced in each other’s arms.

 

“Wow, that was… I don’t know what that was,” she breathed, looking up at him in wonderment.

 

Amusement tugged at Giles’ lips and he ran his fore and middle fingers through a tendril of her hair near her cheek. “In the English language we call it kissing,” he teased before stealing another kiss and resting his forehead against hers. “And you have the sweetest lips I have _ever_ tasted.”

 

He moved his hands to cradle her face between the two before leaning down to kiss her again. He kept the kisses light and titillating, never pushing for more and she relished each one, wanting more, but happily taking what he offered until the moment naturally ended.

 

“Just keep doing that,” Buffy whispered with a smile as she focused her gaze upon his chest.

 

“Which?” he murmured, lifting her face to his, his eyes shining in return. “The compliments or the kisses?”

 

“Both,” she clarified, her eyes falling back onto his lips.

 

As his mouth descended on hers, he breathed one word, “Easy.”

 

—————

 

After exploring the castle, they drove upriver to check out a few of the other nearby attractions. Holding hands along the wine street in a neighboring town, they stopped at several kiosks and sampled more varieties of the region’s wine. Giles bought a couple bottles of a vintage he liked to take back to their B&B later, and earlier Buffy had bought six matching traditional Mosel glass wine glasses etched with grapevines and supported by wide green stems. 

 

As they sat at a wooden table and shared a cone of french fries, Buffy stated conversationally, “I have no idea why I bought those wine glasses. I don’t even have matching plates and bowls and I still haven’t taken the dining room table out of the box to assemble it.” Realizing the conversation could take a turn for the serious, she laughed and added, “Besides, I mostly drink reds and those glasses are unsuitable for reds.”

 

Giles squeezed her hand. “A little spontaneity is good and they are nice to have to invoke memories later.” His eyes shone and he blushed a little. “And perhaps it will inspire you to put the dining room table together.”

 

She laughed. “Yeah, for all those dinner parties I throw.”

 

“Or perhaps just someplace to sit and eat dinner, instead of standing in front of the stove.”

 

“Is there anything wrong with having food delivered, sitting on my couch, and using the coffee table instead?” Buffy asked with mock indignation and turned towards him, her hands on her hips and a little pout donning her impossibly kissable lips.

 

Giles ran his index finger along her lower lip before leaning in and stealing a kiss. “Perhaps we should talk about what changes we want to make in our lives,” he suggested.

 

A look of worry fell across her brow. “I don’t know if I can articulate any of that just yet.”

 

“Do you want to continue at this pace after our holiday? Do you want to continue at all?”

 

She took a sip of wine and looked down at the glass in consternation. “I like what we do. I really do. The new Council needs people like us, people who aren’t tied down to the administration, people who aren’t in the thick of fighting evil to go out there and investigate the weird and whacky, follow the trail of a fabled McGuffin and bring it to safe keeping, interact with normal people who find manuscripts of lost Watchers. That’s what we do and it is important. Being retired from active duty allows us to do this. It’s rewarding.”

 

“It is,” Giles agreed, refraining from engaging further to allow for her to continue her thoughts and work through the issue.

 

Buffy turned to look at him and let out a bemused huff. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about this until after we had a few days of nonworking bliss under our belts.”

 

“Nothing says we can’t discuss it. We just don’t need to make any decisions now.”

 

“I don’t like this particular wine,” she commented pushing the glass away from her and scrunching up her nose.

 

“It is a bit like drinking battery acid, isn’t it?” He laughed at the adorable look on her face, knowing she had shut down the conversation.

 

“Tell me about Roland, since you avoided the question earlier today.”

 

“I don’t think I avoided it,” Giles countered. “I was completely distracted by your lovely self.” He leaned in to kiss her and she backed away.

 

“Uh uh. I am not going to distract you now. Spill.”

 

He sighed for dramatic effect and popped a chip into his mouth. “I haven’t found out much. He was a Watcher originally from Normandy in France. He lived and worked at the headquarters in Siena as a researcher in the library.”

 

“Siena? I thought Council HQ was in London,” Buffy questioned.

 

“It is now. It moved to London during the reign of Elizabeth I. Probably due to the unrest in the Italian peninsula at that time. Could also be because of an increase in Papal influence over the region as well,” he posited. “The entry that I translated was about a visit he had from some acquaintance of his and in the evening they went drinking and wenching. Honestly, it wasn’t relevant to the ledger o-or the von Altens.”

 

“You’re blushing,” she indicated, tracing her index finger along his neck from the collar of his shirt, up over his jaw and to his cheek. “I take it he documented his… exploits.”

 

Her touch caused him to shiver and he looked down at the table an embarrassed smile donning his face. “It was… a bit explicit.”

 

Buffy laughed at his discomfiture and he, realizing the absurdity of it all, started to giggle along side her. “Maybe I should take up Latin,” she breathed when they finally reached a reprieve. He looked at her while trying to suppress the urge to laugh, and instead ended up giggling some more and she up started again.

 

When they were finally able to get themselves under control, Giles, took her hand in his and said, “Come on, I hear a band playing, let’s go find it.”

 

To Buffy’s surprise, Giles was actually a good dancer. The band played some traditional German songs, some eighties hits, and some contemporary, and he navigated a Polka, several upbeat dances, and all the slow dances with ease, and Buffy loved being in his arms. Afterwards, they ate a late dinner under the stars and the fairy lights at a nearby restaurant along the wine street, enjoying a wonderful meal in each other’s company.

 

When they returned to their B&B, it was late, and upon entering their suite, Giles put the wine he had bought in the fridge and Buffy had gone and placed the box with her new wine glasses in her room.

 

“I can’t believe I managed to get them back without breaking one of them,” Buffy stated, returning to the common room having taken off her heels and her sweater.

 

Giles approached her and she walked into his embrace, looking up at him beneath hooded eyes and he carefully brushed an errant lock of hair from her brow.

 

“I’ve had the most wonderful day with you,” he murmured before taking her lips with his own with one of those long, lingering series of kisses she had become accustomed to earlier until he coaxed her mouth open and finally deepened the kiss the way he had wanted to any number of times throughout the day, exploring her mouth, his tongue eagerly tussling with hers.

 

Buffy moaned when he ended the kiss and moved his attentions to her neck and down to the sensitive juncture with her collarbone. Her hands drifted down his back to squeeze his rear and pull him flush to her, feeling the insistent evidence of his obvious desire brush against her belly.

 

“You know,” she breathed. “The day doesn’t have to end.”

 

Bringing his head up to look at her, he whispered, “Buffy…” but he trailed off, his voice a mix of want and hesitation as his eyes searched hers.

 

“Giles,” she began, keeping eye contact with him. “I want. You… _want_ ,” she emphasized, running the backs of her fingers over the obvious bulge in his trousers and smiling at the soft mewl of passion that escaped his throat. “Clearly we care about each other and we have nowhere to be in the morning. Let’s take advantage of it.”

 

He wanted. God how he wanted. That was an understatement. She had been the object of his fantasies for the better part of a year and she had stolen his heart some time before that. Now she stood there before him, desire and a deep vulnerability reflected in her sylvan eyes, her lips red and swollen from his kisses, entreating him to come to bed with her. Stopping her hand from caressing his cock, he brought it to up to his lips and pressed a kiss into her palm, his gaze never leaving hers, before leading her towards her bedroom.

 

Upon entering, Buffy presented her back to him, and swept her hair off her neck and over her shoulder, her heart pounding beneath her breast in anticipation. She could scarcely believe what was happening. The day had unfolded like a dream, Giles fulfilling the role of romantic suitor to perfection, and here they were, about to make love. She felt Giles’ gentle hands grip her shoulders as he placed a kiss on the nape of her neck, and an involuntary shudder passed through her body.

 

“Cold?” he questioned with a whisper against her ear.

 

“The opposite,” she murmured, turning her head towards his and reaching up to bring his lips down to hers.

 

His arms circled her waist, bringing her body into contact with his. When the kiss ended, he ran his hands up and over her torso, feeling her taut nipples beneath his palms before lightly squeezing her breasts. She broke the kiss, moaning softly into his mouth.

 

Lowering the zipper, he whispered huskily, “I really like this dress.”

 

She untied the belt sash and allowed the dress to fall away from her body, revealing a matching pale blue silk and lace bra and panty set. Hearing the intake of air Giles took to steady himself, Buffy turned in his arms.

 

“Jesus,” he breathed. He knew her body would be perfection, but he was completely unprepared for the sight of her so exposed and vulnerable before him. He’d patched her up on any number of occasions, seen her in various stages of undress due to duress, but never had he seen her like like this, never with the intentions of a lover. “You are… so exquisite.”

 

Buffy smiled up at him with a devilish grin before slipping her hands beneath his grey henley shirt and laying her hands flat against his stomach before pushing the shirt up. He raised his arms and helped her remove the garment, watching as she explored his chest and shoulders, enjoying the feel of her fingers running through the smattering of hair peppering his chest and the velvet kisses she placed above his heart. 

 

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small packet of condoms he’d purchased in the men’s room at the restaurant and tossed them onto the side table near the bed. He hadn’t thought they’d need them so soon, but the opportunity had been there and it was better to be prepared.

 

Laughing, Buffy said, “I had the same idea, there is a box of three in the drawer.”

 

“Then we are well supplied,” he answered huskily, kissing her again. Tracing his fingers down her sides, over her hips, and slipping them beneath her knickers, he nudged them until they slipped down her legs.

 

Buffy’s hands darted to his belt, making quick work of unfastening it before moving on to the buttons of his fly, the tension of his arousal against the fabric making it difficult to rid him of his jeans. Looking up, she bit her lip, her expression conveying the reason for her hesitancy.

 

“You won’t hurt me, love, but if you like, I can do it.”

 

She nodded, and he toed off his shoes and socks before reaching down to unbutton his fly. She helped him shuck his shorts and jeans, and he sighed in relief when his rampant cock was freed from its confines. 

 

Buffy ran her eyes up and down his body, appreciating the view in front of her. She’d known him to be strong and fit. He made use of hotel gyms when time allowed, and they still sparred and trained together when they found a space large and private enough on their travels, her recent favorite activity being hand to hand - an excuse to get physical with one another, their bodies working with and against each other. His nude form reflected his quiet strength, that maleness that had complimented the power and grace of the Slayer - and defined their relationship over the years. Reaching around, she unhooked her bra, letting the last of the barriers between them fall to the floor.

 

Words caught in Giles throat and he picked her up and placed her in the middle of her bed, worshipping her as he kissed his way up from her navel to her chin before taking her bottom lip between his teeth and nipping gently.

 

“If I am dreaming, don’t wake me and let me die here,” he whispered against her mouth.

 

“We damn well better _not_ be dreaming,” Buffy answered. “because we never get to finish and I wake up so damned frustrated.”

 

He started to laugh and rolled onto his side, hugging her to him and stroking her back. She giggled along with him, her hand running along his shoulder and upper arm. When their eyes caught, their laughter died suddenly, the tension between them growing more and more tenable until Buffy leaned in and placed a chaste and tentative kiss on his lips.

 

It seemed rather ridiculous to her considering they were lying naked together on the bed with every intention of having sex, but she didn’t know of any other way of breaking the tension between them. As she pulled away, he caressed her cheek with his fingertips.

 

“I would never leave you dissatisfied,” he whispered, his green eyes reflecting a solemn promise as he dragged his fingers over her neck and down to the side of her breast, lightly brushing the skin near the areola.

 

Never had she wanted something so much: his touch, his passion, the union between them; and her desire threatened to overwhelm her. “Make love to me, Giles,” she entreated.

 

His lips took hers in a carnal kiss and she rolled onto her back, bringing him with her. Poised above her, he squeezed her breast and ran his thumb over the nipple, causing it to harden further beneath his touch. 

 

Buffy arched into his hand, biting her lip when he redirected his oral attentions to her other breast, nipping and lipping the tight bud before sucking it his mouth. He lowered his body, his legs straddling one of hers, and she felt the heavy presence of his erection against her. She ran her hands down his back and grabbed his rear, raising her knee to apply some friction and he couldn’t help but thrust against her.

 

“God, Buffy,” he breathed, looking up at her. Her skin was like silk and she felt wonderful beneath him. “I want you, I want to be in you.”

 

Cradling his head between her hands, she brought his face up to hers, kissing him passionately, her tongue searching out his as the passion between them rose to loftier heights. Eager hands wandered over each other’s bodies and Buffy loved the feeling of his muscles responding to her touch, the hair on his chest beneath her palms, and the quickening of his breath against her skin.

 

Giles loved how receptive Buffy was. She reacted to every kiss, nip, lick, and caress with a sensitivity unlike any other lover he had ever had, and when his fingers slid through her curls and cleft, he found her hot, wet, and ready for him. The moment he brushed them over her engorged clit, she came unexpectedly, pulling him to her with his name escaping her lips.

 

He held her as she rode out the aftershocks, whispering nonsensical words and reassuring her when she apologized for her inability to hang on, explaining how incredibly turned on he was from eliciting such a reaction from her. As she started to come down, he willed himself to relax, closing his eyes and trying to calm his breathing, only to open them again when he felt her lips on his chest and her nails and fingertips running along his now semi erect penis.

 

Within moments she’d teased him back to life and, encircling his cock with one hand and fondling his balls with the other, she coaxed soft moans and gasps from him while she explored the length and breadth of him, applying the perfect amount of pressure as she brought him closer and closer to the edge. When he felt the urgency start to rise, he stilled her hand and brought it to his lips.

 

“With you,” he breathed when her eyes met his. “And in you.”

 

“Yes,” she whispered.

 

He reached for the packet of condoms on the nightstand.

 

Buffy bit her lip before making a decision. “Giles,” she called. When he turned towards her, she said, “I’m protected and clean, if you are…” she let the rest hang in the tension filled air between them.

 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

 

She knew his shorthand and knew what he was asking. “Yeah.”

 

Giles dropped the packet and kissed her tenderly. Over the past couple years, they had worked hard to rebuild the trust between them, the trust that had been missing since her resurrection, and now it was culminating in an act between them that was so intimate and so profound that it humbled him.

 

“No more barriers,” she whispered, her bright eyes searching his.

 

He kissed her again in understanding, the need between them rising. Chaste kisses escalated to into erotic ones and, at her invitation, he positioned himself between her thighs. She reached between them and guided his length to her, and he pushed in slowly, allowing them to savor the sensation as she enveloped him with her wet heat.

 

Throwing her head back, Buffy let out a muffled moan and Giles lowered himself to place open mouth kisses down her neck. When he nipped the sensitive junction at her shoulder, she bucked against him and he started to thrust into her.

 

They kept a slow and steady pace as her hands roamed over his body, each loving the feeling of closeness between them. As their kisses heated up again, urgency took over and he increased the tempo of his thrusts. She met him stroke for stroke, milking his cock until neither could hold on any longer, both shouting the other’s name as they reached their release together.

 

Not wanting to hurt her, he shifted them onto their sides and she settled into his his arms, her head resting on his right bicep.

 

“Wow,” she said, when she finally found her voice.

 

Giles beamed at her. “It was rather, wasn’t it?”

 

“God, you are so British,” she said with a chuckle, slapping his shoulder in amusement.

 

“Well, I _am_ British,” he stated with a sated grin on his face.

 

“Yeah. Take the man out of Old Blighty, but you’ll never take Old Blighty out of the man.”

 

“I should hope not!”

 

“Me neither. You’re sorta perfect just the way you are,” she said before leaning in to kiss his mock affronted lips.

 

“The feeling is mutual,” he answered before a yawn overtook him. “Excuse me.”

 

“I’m wiped too,” Buffy said, stifling her answering yawn. “Hold me until I fall asleep?”

 

The conflicted look on her face stated that she wasn’t sure what the protocol would be after their love making and he brushed a strand of hair off her forehead before placing a soft kiss above her brow. “I’ll hold you all night, if you like.”

 

Her face lit up. “I’d definitely like.”

 

“It’ll be my privilege, Buffy,” he replied, rolling onto his back as she pillowed her head into the crook of his shoulder.

 

—————

 

Giles woke first the following morning with Buffy draped over half his body. He couldn’t quite believe that she could sleep comfortably that way, but she was sleeping soundly. He watched her relaxed breathing in wonder. Never had he seen her quite so tranquil, even when she fell asleep during research back in Sunnydale or on aeroplanes or coaches whilst they were on travel in their new roles.

 

He had thought to wake her, but in light of how peaceful she looked, he decided to let her doze a little longer. They weren’t scheduled to be down for breakfast for another couple of hours.

 

When Buffy woke and an hour and a half later, Giles was curled around her form in spoon fashion, his legs firmly tucked up under hers, his left arm possessively hugging him to her. She felt warm and protected, even though as a Slayer, she usually did all the protecting. Falling asleep and waking up in his arms was the best feeling in the world.

 

She turned carefully to face him, not wanting to wake him, but she found him staring at her when she finished maneuvering.

 

“Good morning,” he greeted, his eyes the color of jade in the soft, diffused morning light.

 

“Not quite yet,” she answered, leaning in and placing a kiss on his lips.

 

As the kiss neared completion, Giles brought his free hand up to the back of her head and guided her back to him, not wanting to let reality intrude just yet. He reverted back to those series of light kisses from the previous day, only occasionally teasing her with his tongue, until Buffy grabbed his wrists and rolled him onto his back, kissing him deeply and passionately while straddling his thigh.

 

“ _Now_ it’s a good morning,” she murmured as she kissed her way down his throat.

 

“Yes, very much so,” he sighed, flexing his fingers, not believing what he was going to say next. “If you keep this up, we’ll never make it to breakfast.”

 

Buffy laughed and looked down at a very enthusiastic and awake part of his anatomy. “Oh I have every intention of keeping _this_ up, and I am about to take advantage of it,” she said with a saucy look on her face.

 

He grinned up at her. “Going to have your way with me, then?”

 

“Oh yes,” she answered as she repositioned herself over his hard length.

 

They made love slowly, Buffy on top, taking the lead and dictating the pace. Kisses, delicate touches, and whispered words of encouragement created a gradual build up. With his hands finally freed, Giles worshipped the curves and planes of her body before settling them on her hips. He sat up to suckle at her breasts, deepening the angle of penetration, causing Buffy to cry out and ride him faster and harder. 

 

She couldn’t ignore the rising tension within her body, her breathing erratic and she was losing the cadence of their lovemaking. Sensing her need, Giles moved his hands to her rear, squeezing her cheeks and gyrating his hips, encouraging her to take what she needed. Releasing her nipple he placed his forehead against hers, initiating eye contact.

 

It all became too intense for her. “I can’t… hold on.”

 

“Let go!” he commanded and watched as she arched into him, hitting the peak of her passion and tumbling over the edge. Giles couldn’t recall seeing anything so magnificent as Buffy - his Slayer- no… his _lover_ in the throes of orgasm, and as her inner walls spasmed around him, he quickly joined her in oblivion.

 

Buffy lay over him, clutching him to her as she tried to steady her breathing. Giles held her tightly to him, fighting to regain his senses, his left hand cradling her head at the nape of her neck as she rested her head on his chest. Several long minutes passed before Buffy moved off of him and snuggled into his side as they quietly shared light kisses and touches.

 

Spying the time on the alarm clock next to the bed, Buffy stated, “Well, we’ve officially missed breakfast.”

 

“I’m finding I really don’t care at the moment.”

 

She smiled at him. “Neither do I.” They were quiet a little longer while she ran her fingers over his tattoo of the Mark of Eyghon.

 

“Does it bother you?” he asked softly, covering her hand over the tattoo and lacing his fingers with hers.

 

“No. It’s your history, a part of who you are. And after going through the removal process, I don’t wish that kind of pain on you.”

 

“I am sorry for that.”

 

She sat up, allowing the sheet that covered them to fall, and said, “Giles, we have spent the last two years saying we’re sorry for mistakes of the past. We’re here now.”

 

“You are right, of course,” he answered, bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

 

“Of course I am,” she replied with a smug grin as she settled onto his chest, looking up at him. “And now I propose a nice relaxing bath in the whirlpool tub, complete with snuggling, followed by a hearty lunch, and we’ll figure out what to do the rest of the day later.”

 

Caressing her cheek, he murmured, “I like that plan.”

 

—————

 

Over the following two days, the manuscripts sat untouched in the room safe. Neither Giles nor Buffy gave them much thought in light of the change in their relationship, preferring to spend time together exploring the towns and castles along the Mosel, sampling the wines, and eating great food. 

 

Buffy woke the following day to the sound of rain pelting the windows. Opening one eye, she double checked to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, and when the reality of rain was confirmed, she snuggled down into her lover’s embrace and he reflexively tightened his arms around her. She was rather happy the weatherman had gotten the forecast wrong, because she and Giles had been on the go so much over the past couple days. Perhaps they could just stay in, catch up on their emails and other personal business, and read and cuddle together.

 

Thinking of her lover, Buffy couldn’t believe how attentive and tactile Giles had been, always holding her hand or touching her in some way, and how he’d been so solicitous and chivalrous. He’d even taken to kissing her in public, whether it was a peck on her cheek or on the top of her head or one of those series of teasing kisses he was so fond of, or the kind that made her wish there was nobody watching in the immediate vicinity. Considering the Giles she knew was an extremely private person, he’d gone out of his way to make sure she felt all feminine and cared for… loved even.

 

But that word hadn’t been uttered once by either of them in the time since they’d become lovers. She tried not to give it much thought, but it was during the quiet moments such as these that doubt and fear crept into her thoughts. She knew why she didn’t say anything. It was all so new and she didn’t want to introduce the complexity of emotions and expectations. They had enough to deal with, deciding what their roles would be going forward in the Council, and she worried that if she said those three little words, it could possibly mess up their working relationship as well as their friendship. She knew it would break her heart if what they had now was just a holiday romance, but without those words, they could draw on their friendship and get through it. She would be able to content herself that he was still her partner and friend. If she admitted her feelings and he didn’t return them, her heart would absolutely shatter irreparably and there was the very real possibility she would lose him entirely, unable to work with him through the awkwardness of exposed feelings.

 

Giles felt her sigh. He’d actually been awake for several minutes and he knew she was awake as well, but he enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms and he wasn’t ready to let anything intrude on the quiet peace of the early morning amidst the steady drumming of the rain against the window.

 

Kissing the top of her head, he whispered, “Good morning.”

 

“Mmm,” she answered, turning in his arms to look at him. “Every morning I get to wake up with you is good.”

 

Giles’ heart swelled and their lips met in a gentle touch, and he wanted to tell her that he loved her, but what they had at the moment was so simple and easy, he didn’t want to complicate things. There would be time later, when they would discuss their wants and needs for the future with the Council. He would tell her then when the status quo would change anyway, and if it wasn’t what she wanted, then he could move into a more solitary position within the Council or find something else to do on the outside in a civilian role, but he was counting on their partnership and their friendship, which they’d spent so much time mending over the past two years, to help smooth things over should she not want what he wanted.

 

Resolved to keep things simple, he caressed her cheek and replied, “Waking up with you in my arms is rapidly becoming one of my favorite activities.”

 

Eyebrow raised, Buffy looked at him with the most mischievous look. “What’s your favorite activity?”

 

“That’s easy,” he said, wanting to answer her as honestly he could without giving away the truth of his feelings. “Just being with you.”

 

Unable to find words to respond, she hugged him. Actually, she knew what she wanted to say to him, but she bit down on it, saving it for some time later. She certainly wasn’t ready to have such a serious conversation at that moment.

 

“Thank you,” she finally said.

 

—————

 

The rest of their early morning was spent showering together - which took longer than it should have, having a really nice breakfast cooked by their hostess, and catching up on their emails. When the rain continued into the late morning, Buffy decided to read while Giles removed Roland’s diary from the safe and resumed his translation of the passages, only this time he started closer towards the end, the last six months worth of entries.

 

After about an hour, she heard an excited little “a-ha” escape Giles’ lips as the frantic sound of rustling paper and the heavy scrawl of a fountain pen across the hard surface invaded the silence of the room. She looked up from her book and noticed how disheveled his hair was, having dragged his hand through it multiple times no doubt, and the tell tale excitable gleam reflecting in his expressive green eyes.

 

He’d had a massive breakthrough.

 

Setting her book down, Buffy got up and walked over to Giles. She picked up one of his papers and started to read his translation.

 

Giles stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. “Roland was onto something huge.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

Capping his pen, he said, “The Calling of Slayers isn’t random,” he said.

 

“Well, we’ve never thought it was _completely_ random, right? I mean, you wouldn’t think that Fate would call someone who couldn’t do the job.”

 

“Well no. The Council has always had a number of ways to identify potentials, utilizing seers and looking for the Slayer birthmark, for example, and even then, girls were missed.”

 

“Like me,” she stated.

 

“Yes, like you,” he agreed. “Even the seers using their magicks couldn’t find all the Potentials, nor could they predict which one would become the Slayer. Roland’s research theorizes that there is such a thing as Slayer bloodlines.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

 

“The ledger. No one had ever really analyzed the Slayer’s names. And admittedly, they look random. But he stated they aren’t - if one places the names in their proper regions. He believed there to be several family lines per region and he cross referenced this information with the corresponding Watcher Diaries, discovering that whenever a new Slayer was called, she was called in the region where there was an increase in demonic activity. That last bit of information obviously is not a new concept to us, but in the thirteenth century, it was something fairly radical. Apparently Roland had proffered the latter theory amongst his peers in Siena and had made a name for himself based on it.

 

"However, once analyzed, it became clear that there were only a few shared family names amongst the Slayers, their proximities to each other too close to be coincidental. Now Roland kept his research regarding the idea of there being Slayer bloodlines, if you will, to himself, wanting to ensure that he had all the pieces before he presented to the inner circle, what we would call the board of directors. After all, if they could identify the Slayer families, they could protect them and perhaps predict the next Slayer.”

 

“Sounds reasonable, until it’s not. I mean, the Council snatched up little girls and removed them from their families, placing them with Watchers to start their training,” Buffy interjected, her brow furrowing with worry. A cold shudder spasmed through her body. “Imagine the horrors they could unleash if they knew where to look and who to look for.”

 

Giles pushed his chair out from beneath the table and sat her down on his knee, hugging her to him. “Precisely. Roland knew the dangers such knowledge might bring, so he only confided in a few of his friends, among them a man named John Holland, a Watcher at the outpost in London. They carried on a correspondence regarding the subject, with John assisting where he could.”

 

“Man, that’s a lot of miles to travel and a channel to cross. I can’t imagine that kind of collaborative work was efficient back then.”

 

“No, I imagine not.”

 

“Do you think he was on his way to London when he met up with Max’s ancestor?”

 

Smiling, Giles pushed her hair off her face and softly kissed her lips. “That’s my suspicion. I haven’t gotten further into his diary, but the implications of his find has significance for us, in our new world of active Slayers.” He shifted his gaze to the window. “The sun has come out. What do you say to a trip into Trier for the afternoon?”

 

“You mean I can drag you away from such productive research?”

 

“Mock me and I will recant my offer and continue my research.”

 

“Mock you? I never mock you.” He gave her the full force of his librarian glare and she laughed, placing her arms around his neck and kissing his earlobe. “Tease good-naturedly, I will give you, occasionally give you a hard time-“

 

“You are starting to give me a hard time now, you minx,” he said, shifting her on his lap so she could feel the evidence of his double entendre.

 

She smiled, running her hand through his soft hair. “Didn’t get enough last night? Or in the shower this morning?”

 

He didn’t think he would ever slake his thirst for her. Over the past several years he had felt like he had been sleepwalking and, being in her presence, traveling with her, and working with her on a daily basis over the past year, he’d felt like he’d woken up, but lying in her arms, making love with her, he finally felt alive and he never wanted it to end.

 

“No,” he finally answered, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. “But we should probably take advantage of the change in the weather. We only have a couple more days here.”

 

“Unless we just say screw it and never leave,” Buffy suggested wistfully. It was pure fantasy, she knew that and she knew he knew that, but not leaving meant they had this bubble of time and space that belonged only to them. They didn’t have to address anything for the long term… not their roles with the Council, what they were to one another, not anything.

 

Giles understood what she meant and he wasn’t going to push, mostly because he was too cowardly - if he were being honest with himself. “Let’s make the most of now,” he suggested before chastely kissing her forehead. “Go get ready, and I will put my notes and the diary away.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed, standing up. “And, Giles?” He looked up at her. “Being with you is my favorite thing too.”

 

—————

 

The afternoon weather was absolutely gorgeous. The sun shone and the blue sky held jaunty white clouds, almost as if in apology for the storm that had passed through earlier that morning. Buffy and Giles stood in one of the high rooms in the Porta Nigra overlooking the city of Trier, the oldest city in Germany, founded by the Celts and later conquered by the Romans to become their provincial capital. It remained a prospering city during the Holy Roman Empire, and continued to flex its muscles as a city of influence and learning well into the modern era.

 

Buffy stood content in Giles’ arms as he held her from behind. “Beautiful view,” she commented.

 

“It really is,” he replied. “Are you ready to go explore the city?”

 

She leaned back into his strong chest and let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, I am ready.”

 

They spent the afternoon doing normal touristy things, visiting the Basilica of Constantine, the Roman baths, the Karl Marx House, and the fortress like Cathedral of Trier before taking a break at a cafe out in the city square for cakes and coffee. While they were enjoying their interlude, Max von Alten and his family stopped by their table.

 

“Rupert, Buffy, how nice to see you again!” Max greeted, his voice rich and warm. Giles and Buffy stood, Giles shaking his hand and Buffy giving him a hug. “Please, let me introduce my family. “This is my wife Erika and my daughters Steffi and Lyssa.”

 

“Very nice to meet, you all!” Buffy stated as she shook hands with Max’s wife and girls. The older girl could not have been more than six while the younger one looked to be about four. “Won’t you please join us?”

 

The elder daughter turned and asked her mother something in German and, with an affirmative response, she took her sister’s hand and they ran out into the square to chase pigeons. Erika and Max sat down in the two free chairs at the table.

 

“I apologize, they have more energy today than we know what to do with. Max never should have bought them ice creams,” Erika said with a smile.

 

“But they have been so good on this excursion, my love,” Max protested.

 

His wife replied good-naturedly, “They will be _your_ handful on the ride home. I’m driving.”

 

“Yes, dear,” he answered with a wink.

 

It was evident that Max and Erika clearly loved each other, their banter light and fun. When the waitress came by again, they both ordered coffee and juices, and the four adults sat chatting and watching the girls play in the square.

 

“Have you found anything more out about your ancestor yet, Rupert?” Max asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him..

 

“Ah yes I have. Roland had been living in Siena, working as researcher at the university there.” It was a half truth. The Council had been affiliated with the newly founded university at that time. In fact, it had been said that Council monies had helped establish the university. “Apparently he had been corresponding with someone in London and, while I haven’t been able to confirm it yet, we believe that he was on his way there when he stopped at the castle.”

 

“Interesting. I suspect transposing the code and translating that into English is a fairly time consuming process.”

 

“It gets easier over time,” Giles admitted, going on to say that he hoped to find out what happened to Roland soon.

 

“Are you enjoying your visit?” Erika asked Buffy, bored with the men’s conversation.

 

“Very much,” Buffy answered. “We decided to extend our stay and take some time to get away from it all. It’s such a beautiful area and a great time of year to be here.” As she set down her coffee cup, Max and Erika’s youngest daughter stealthily crawled into Buffy’s lap.

 

“Guten Tag,” she said, her blue eyes shining.

 

“Guten Tag,” Buffy answered back.

 

“Lyssa,” her mother said in a disapproving voice, but Buffy assured her it was fine.

 

“Wie geht’s?” Buffy asked, pretty much expending her knowledge of German unless she needed to find the toilets.

 

“Gut!” Lyssa replied enthusiastically before talking about anything and everything. Buffy was amazed at the outgoing nature of the little girl sitting on her knee. Lyssa then went on to show off her dress, counting the butterflies on it. Buffy counted with the little girl, only in English, and when they had counted all the ones on the front of her dress, they went on to name the colors of each of the butterflies, translating for each other. 

 

Giles intently watched Buffy interact with Max and Erika’s youngest daughter. Despite the language barrier, they were getting on perfectly and his eyes softened at the sight of the little girl giving her a big hug, thanking her before naming all the colors in English with no prompting whatsoever.

 

“Your Buffy is a natural with little ones,” Erika stated, watching Giles watch Buffy with her daughter.

 

“Hmm?” he stated before her comment sank in. “Oh… erm… yes,” he stuttered with embarrassment. “Buffy raised her sister after their mother passed away. She is very good with children.” Admittedly, he’d never seen Buffy interact with a child so young. His memories of Buffy interacting with Dawn as a child of ten were implanted by monks, and therefore not really reliable, but he’d watched her enough over the past few years with the Potentials and young Slayers to know she had grown into her role as mentor. And he had to admit that watching Buffy interact so tenderly with Lyssa, the two of them teaching each other their respective languages, that he wanted a future for Buffy that included children.

 

When the coffees, cakes, and juices had been consumed, the two parties said goodbye to one another and Buffy and Giles watched the young family leave. Lyssa turned around to wave to Buffy one last time before happily skipping away after Buffy smiled and waved back.

 

“You were very good with her,” Giles commented, taking Buffy’s hand as they headed back to the Porsche.

 

She smiled, though mostly to herself. She and Lyssa had spent the last half hour drawing pictures with the colored pencils Erika carried in her purse. “I had fun. She’s a sweet kid. Very bright, very curious about her world, and wanting to share it with everyone.”

 

“Not everyone,” he stated, drawing her near and placing his arm around her waist. “With you.”

 

She snuggled into his solid frame with a contented sigh. “Well, I can now say that I know the numbers and colors in German. That car over there… blau, your shirt… grün,” she demonstrated smugly and he laughed.

 

—————

 

That evening, Giles couldn’t sleep, his conscience was in turmoil. After he and Buffy had made love, he’d lain awake for over an hour while she snoozed peacefully against his side. In two days time, they would head back to London… to face reality, face their friends, define their relationship, and… after seeing Buffy with Max’s daughter, he wasn’t sure he was the right man for her. He’d passed the half century mark last year. She deserved someone younger, someone like Max, to have a family with.

 

The past three days had been magic and they’d been living in their own little world. But reality was due to intrude, and reality was a harsh mistress. No shade, no quarter given, just stark hard truths. And the truth was, she needed someone to experience life with and someone to grow old with. He was already old… okay, he was in better shape than most men twenty years younger than he was, but he wasn’t exactly ideal husband and father material. That boat had sailed long before he got on a plane for the States almost a decade ago.

 

Unable to quiet the nagging and doubting voices in his head, he carefully removed himself from the bed without waking her, grabbed his clothes, and wandered into the common room, closing the door behind him. Turning on the lights, he pulled out his notes and the diary from the safe and started to work on translating the rest of the entries. With the key to the code already committed to memory, it was easy to decipher the words and then translate from the Latin. In no time, he was through several entries, Roland’s story unfolding before his very eyes.

 

And the more he learned, the angrier he got, his mood souring by the second. When he finally decoded and translated the last entry, he couldn’t breathe properly. Dressing quickly, he grabbed his jacket and headed out into the night. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he followed the path into the center of town and then walked down to the river. The chilled air was heavy with fog rolling in off the water and he drew the collar of his jacket up over his neck in an effort to stay dry and warm as he increased his pace, trying to leave his thoughts behind.

 

—————

 

Buffy woke up suddenly. Something was wrong, she could just feel it. She turned in the bed, expecting Giles to pull her into his arms, but he wasn’t there. Reaching for the lamp on the side table, she turned it on and rose from the bed.

 

“Giles?” she called out, grabbing her robe. Upon hearing no answer, she made her way to the common room and found the diary and his research strewn across the table in disarray. Something had gotten to him, and he was upset. That much she knew.

 

Before heading back into the bedroom to change, she checked the balcony, just in case he was cooling off out there, but it was Giles free. After she dressed, she placed the manuscript and his papers into the safe and left a note for him just in case he came back while she was out searching for him.

 

It was still dark when she wandered down the footpath from their B&B, however the sky was beginning to lighten. She walked through the town down to the river. She wasn’t sure whether to follow upstream or down, so she stopped, quieted her thoughts, and reached out with her senses.

 

Upstream, maybe a half a mile... it was Giles, she was sure of it. As she drew closer to the figure on the bench, she knew it was him. He was bent over and held his face in his hands. Making sure he could hear the fall of her footsteps, she approached the bench and sat down next to him.

 

“Hey,” she said softly, placing a concerned hand on his back.

 

Giles sat up, his back straight, and looked out over the river, the fog beginning to dissipate in the early morning light. “Hey,” he answered.

 

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

 

He looked down at his hands as he steepled and flexed his fingers. “They… hunted him down like a dog,” he finally said. “They wanted to kill him.”

 

“Roland?”

 

“Yes, Roland!” he spat as he turned to look at her with incredulity, his anger rising. “Who else?”

 

Undeterred by his harshness, she reached out and took his hand in hers. “And by they, you mean the Council.”

 

“Yes,” he hissed. “Those bastards! He’d shown his mentor his research, who reported it to the inner circle. They’d declared it dangerous, anathema, but they wanted his work, wanted to find the bloodlines.”

 

“What were they going to do with them?” she asked in a whisper, squeezing his hand in support.

 

“Roland didn’t say, but you were right to be fearful.”

 

“Why would they want Roland killed? If he had all the information, wouldn’t they need him?”

 

“If he wouldn’t provide the details, they’d torture it out of him, or kill him. His code wasn’t that sophisticated. I broke it in a few hours,” he stated. 

 

“Why would the inner circle think he wouldn’t agree to their plans for the Slayer bloodlines?”

 

Giles finally turned and looked at her. “During Roland’s time, there was a schism within the Council, stemming from a disagreement over the Council’s role in the lives of the Watcher/Slayer pair.”

 

“The more things changed, the more they stayed the same… until recently,” Buffy muttered.

 

“Just so. Roland’s camp had moved to the stronghold in London, but he needed to remain behind in Siena to access the ledgers and diaries in the Council’s great library to continue his research.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “So when his mentor turned him in, he found out and packed up his research, the ledger, and his diary, and took off for London.”

 

“The Council has always been known for its alliances and its bureaucracy. They were allied with the Holy Roman Empire and the Church, so when Roland escaped and evaded their immediate jurisdiction, they called on their treaties and the local princes to hunt him down. They wanted him alive, but dead would do as long as they had his diary and the ledger. He made it as far as the von Alten lands, but he was gravely wounded, half frozen, and on the verge of collapse. In a desperate effort, he hid the satchel with the books and led his pursuers on a chase until he was captured and taken prisoner.”

 

“Enter the von Altens.”

 

“Yes. Hugo von Alten was an old man who had stepped out of the limelight in favor of his son Konrad. When Roland was brought before Konrad, it was Hugo who suggested they not hand him over to the goons looking for him - not yet at least. He thought they could perhaps negotiate a ransom with Roland’s family that would be more profitable for them, so they had his wounds tended to and gave him all the comforts of home according to Roland’s rank as the son of a baron. Over a period of several months, while Roland recovered, Hugo visited him and they became friends. Roland had hidden his satchel, but upon his friendship with the old Baron, he confided in its whereabouts to Hugo, who had his most trusted men recover it. Unfortunately for Roland, one of his wounds refused to heal and it ended up festering. After a five month battle, he died, but not before asking Hugo to hold onto his things for a while to allow the news of his death to settle. If the Council thought his work lost, then it was no longer a threat to their dogma.”

 

Buffy sighed. It was a sad ending. “Do you think old Hugo died before he could send Roland’s things back to his family or send them on to his allies in London?”

 

“I am fairly certain of it,” Giles answered, removing his hand from her grasp. He stood and picked up a rock, tossing it as hard as he could into the river. “I suspect Konrad didn’t have a clue as to who Roland was other than some injured noble who fell afoul of some authority in Siena. Once he was dead and there was no profit to be had, he forgot the matter.”

 

“Pretty shitty way to go. Thank god for antibiotics.”

 

Giles made a grumbly sort of sound and sat back down on the bench.

 

“I get being upset by Roland’s story, but that was 750 years ago give or take. Things are different now. Tell me what’s really wrong.”

 

“It’s stupid, really.”

 

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said, leaning back to look at him and placing a hand on his forearm.

 

He turned to her, his eyes haunted by a lifetime full of regrets. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Giles, please tell me,” she entreated.

 

Looking out once more across the river, Giles was able to see the far bank. “Roland died without issue.”

 

Buffy wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. “Good for him, I guess. I mean when I died, I had plenty of issues, but I’d figured out what was important and was at peace with my decis-”

 

“No,” he interrupted, though gently. “There was no one there to mourn him, no one who knew him. And no one to bring his body home to, his parent’s dead and buried, two brothers killed on Crusade and the other brother never mentioned. No wife... no children…”

 

“Oh,” she whispered.

 

“His line ended with him,” Giles continued, before turning to face her. “He died alone with his diary and his research.”

 

“Giles, if you think… If you are making parallels between you and Roland…”

 

“How can I not?” he asked, standing up and running a hand through his hair as he desperately paced back and forth along the bank of the river.

 

She rose from the bench and stood in front of him, blocking his movement. “Other than the fact that both of you had a penchant for telling authority to go fuck itself and coming across as rebels with a cause, I am not sure what you are alluding to. Giles, if you want a wife and family, there is still time for that.”

 

“I am fifty-one years old, Buffy,” he reminded her as he turned away, suddenly taking an interest in the chestnut tree behind the bench.

 

“So what? I know the plumbing works damn well. Are you shooting blanks?”

 

“What?” he asked incredulously as he spun on his heels to face her again.

 

“Are you sterile?”

 

“No! It’s just that…” He sighed heavily with defeat. “Fathering a child when most men my age are welcoming their grandchildren, it’s… it’s not-“ he stopped himself.

 

“It’s not what?”

 

He swallowed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ve had a lovely time with you, Buffy, but I think this… holiday romance… needs to end.”

 

“Oh no!” she said, her voice raised. “You do _not_ get to do that. No more barriers, Giles, remember?”

 

“That was said in quite the different context,” he argued.

 

“It was meant in _every_ context and you know it!”

 

His heart was breaking and he was so frustrated. Letting out a growl, he finally vented all the reasons he needed to let her go. “I can’t do this! Don’t you see? Yesterday a pretty little girl sat in your lap and you tended to her as though you were her mother. It was so… natural. You spent time teaching her English and taking the time to learn German from her, giving her all your attention and talking about the colors on her pretty little dress. You should have that!” Giles paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “You, of _all_ people… deserve that,” he said more calmly. “With someone like Max. Someone to grow old with. Not tending to someone entering their twilight years while you are raising the children.”

 

“And what if I don’t want children?”

 

“That’s your choice, certainly, but I think we both know that you do.”

 

She sat back down on the bench, her hands beneath her thighs. “I once told Angel none of that mattered.”

 

“You lied.”

 

“Yeah. But in that moment I meant every word, even if it wasn’t true.”

 

“And now?”

 

Her eyes, dark in the monochrome light, held his. “I won’t lie to you. Not after everything. I _do_ want that. The husband, the family. Being settled. No more frequent flyer miles, hotel points, washing my delicates in the sink. No more returning to an empty flat filled with unopened boxes, and eating dry cereal from the box because the milk I picked up three weeks before curdled in the fridge before I ever even _thought_ about coming home. I’ve decided I want to train Slayers at the new Academy rather than hunt down artifacts and follow scraps of leads in some supernatural scavenger hunt while avoiding pitfalls and demons. I think our network is big enough now that the local Slayers can follow those leads and see if something comes of them.”

 

“It is,” he confirmed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

 

“Do you love me?” she asked finally, her voice sounding so small and her heart pounding within her rib cage.

 

It was the moment of truth and he couldn’t hide anymore. Couldn’t avoid the question because reality had encroached on their holiday anyway and, if he was going to lose her, she might as well know.

 

“With all that I am,” he vowed, his right hand secured over his heart.

 

Internally Buffy heaved a huge sigh of relief. She patted the space on the bench beside her. When he didn’t move, she patted it again and inclined her head towards the spot. He took the hint and sat down beside her.

 

“Giles, I love you too,” she stated, her eyes finding his. “God, I _adore_ you. I meant it when I said being with you is my favorite thing. I don’t care that you are fifty-one. I don’t care that when I am fifty-one you’ll be pushing eighty. That doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that we are together. And when you are eighty-something, you’ll be changing the grandchildren’s diapers and playing patty cake with them, because you are _that_ sort of guy.” She took his hands and gently kissed his lips. “Roland dying without issue was something he didn’t plan. He was gravely injured and died of infection at twenty-six. You choosing to eventually die alone because of some noble idea of what you think is right for me is really foolish.”

 

“Buffy-“

 

“You are the only one for me, you… _dunderhead!_ Fate, God, the Powers, the force that binds the universe, whatever you want to call it, chose _us_. You for me and vice versa. It’s time to stop fighting destiny and be happy, Giles, because right now, you are one vein popping rant from demon raising by the looks of you.”

 

He stared at her in shock for a moment, shock at her gall for bringing up his past in such a manner, but then he started to laugh, little giggles escaping his throat and he leaned into her, bumping his shoulder against hers before busting out in a full on belly laugh. It was infectious and she started laughing with him.

 

“Eighty years old and I’ll be changing nappies, eh?” Giles finally said when he got himself under control.

 

“Count on it,” Buffy said between the last of the laughter.

 

He leaned towards her, touching his forehead to hers, before pressing his lips against hers, his kiss chaste yet full of promises, just as the first golden tendrils of light that herald the morning made their presence known over the hilltops.

 

“I love you,” he breathed, jade colored eyes searching her darker ones as he held her face in his hands. The words he’d longed to say finally spilled over his lips. “God, how I love you.”

 

Her only answer was to kiss him, joy spreading through her like greek fire as she opened herself to him. When the kiss threatened to become more, she broke it and said, “Let’s go back to bed.”

 

“Let’s,” he agreed, taking her hand and leading her back down the path.

 

And later, when he and Buffy were ready to face the world again, he would phone Max and give him an edited accounting of their ancestors’ acquaintance and fill him in on his missing family history.

 

—————

 

“So, 750 years ago, there was this Giles-“

 

“Roland,” Buffy supplied.

 

Xander nodded. “Roland Giles, who came up with a theory that there were Slayer bloodlines in different regions of the world and he created havoc within the Council because he believed that Slayers weren’t property of the Council and wanted to protect them,” he summarized, leaning against his desk.

 

“That’s the gist of it,” Buffy answered, looking over at her Giles.

 

“A fairly substantive theory, I might add,” Giles stated with conviction.

 

“Kinda history repeating itself with the latter there. Two rogue Watchers from the same family. Who knew rebellion was a genetic trait.”

 

Giles gave him one of those shy tight smiles.

 

“Quite the legacy,” Buffy agreed approvingly. 

 

“Guess you got the research and cross referencing gene from this guy too,” Xander quipped.

 

“I am not directly related to him. My line stems from one of his older brothers. Although I am sure the rebellion gene skips generations, because my father wouldn’t do anything unless he consulted a rule book first and I am fairly certain my grandmother must’ve written no less than half a dozen rule books.”

 

“So, what do you propose we do with this knowledge? About the Slayer bloodlines?” Xander asked, picking up the ancient manuscript containing the names of the Slayers and their Watchers.

 

“I think we see if the Slayers we have are descendants of the ones recorded in the book. Of course there is 750 years of lost history and genealogy to try and wade through, and most of the books we need to consult were lost when the Council was destroyed almost three years ago, but there may be copies in private collections elsewhere…”

 

“We don’t have the resources to undertake something like that!” Xander interjected. “I get that it would be interesting, but is there merit it in it? What advantage would it provide us? The world is becoming smaller, people are more fluid than they ever have been and as you said, there is three quarters of a _millennia_ worth of information missing between Roland’s diary, the ledger, and now.”

 

“True,” Buffy acknowledged. “But we don’t know anything about who the Slayers are now. I mean, assuming the bloodline theory is true, why am I a Slayer and not my mom? Was my mom a Potential who was overlooked by fate? I managed to slip through the cracks - I was never found until after I got my powers. And Dawn has _my_ blood, she was made _from_ me, yet she was never a Potential and we didn’t activate her. She certainly could have been when Willow invoked the spell, but she wasn’t. Those are just a few of the questions that pop up. Dig deeper and there are a lot of unknowns.”

“Sounds like it skips generations,” he answered.

 

“Much like rebellion amongst my family, I suppose,” Giles responded dryly.

 

“Maybe it’s best if this knowledge stays buried. Clearly Roland had a change of heart, asking his buddy to keep the books hidden. I mean, imagine that information getting out into the general evil and undead populations. The First nearly destroyed all the Watcher families and was intent on murdering all the Potentials too. Do we really want to give it a roadmap to guide it’s minions on their merry murderous way next time?” Xander asked cautiously.

 

“I think we need to know. We are living in a much different world now. The information would be guarded, of course, and we now have an army of Slayers to protect that knowledge,” Buffy argued.

 

Xander sighed, his eye trained on the Watcher before him. “I can only think of one person who could take on a task this big, treat the Slayers with respect, and not let it become one big freaky-deaky science experiment. Yet, that person is currently part of a super duo that is my troubleshooting team.”

 

“Well, that’s the other reason we’re here, Xand,” Buffy stated quietly, and Xander turned his attention to her, folding his arms across his chest. “We can’t keep up with this grueling schedule anymore. Living out of suitcases in impersonal hotel rooms. It’s time for us to stop and settle down.”

 

“What brought this on? Just three months ago you were begging for assignments to carry you through until Christmas.”

 

“Hong Kong, Sydney, and Murat brought this on. It’s time to come home. Geez, It’s time to _make_ a home. The same sheets have been on my bed for the last three months and I don’t need to wash them because I haven’t slept there more than four nights in that time. I don’t even know what color the walls are in my apartment, but I know they aren’t white. And I miss you and Willow and Dawn.”

 

Xander looked at Giles. “Is this something you want too?”

 

“Yes,” the Watcher stated simply, though his eyes weren’t on his friend, they were on Buffy.

 

The Head of Council shook his head, resigned. “Whether I approve it or not, you are going to research the bloodlines anyway, aren’t you?”

 

Giles’ gaze met Xander’s. “My gut tells me it’s the right thing to do. Since the activation spell, there are so many new questions regarding the Slayers, perhaps Roland’s findings can lead us towards those answers.”

 

“And if I order you not to?” he challenged.

 

“I am the descendant of a rogue Watcher, remember?” Giles stated with a rebellious grin. “I’ve already proven I can’t fight genetics.”

 

“I get why Travers fired you,” Xander stated with sarcastic resignation. “So is this a temporary thing? Like take a break through the end of the year and then pick back up once the holidays are over, but with a less grueling schedule or…?”

 

“There really are no good reasons to keep us around doing this sort of thing. We now have enough active Slayers and Watchers around the world that can handle the weird and whacky stuff that we’ve been investigating,” Buffy stated emphatically. “Giles and I constantly flew by the seat of our pants in Sunnydale and we managed. It’s time to stop hand holding and trust the next generation.”

 

Xander mulled that information over. “True,” he finally said. “But you guys are the best I have.”

 

“We’re not dropping off the face of the planet,” Giles assured his young friend.

 

“No, not at all,” Buffy added quickly. “It’s up to you, but I’d like to request a transfer to the Academy and instruct the new Watchers and Slayers. Maybe create an advanced course or two for our more senior staff.”

 

“And while I can certainly keep myself busy researching, I’d like to have a hand in that as well,” Giles added.

 

Xander’s stern hazel eye met two pairs of green ones. “If _anything_ weird or apocalyptic pops up-“

 

“We’ll definitely be there to help in any way we can. Like always,” Buffy promised.

 

“Fine,” Xander agreed with a wave of his hand. “Classes have been in session for a month, so there won’t be a place for you at the Academy until winter term. Until then, consider yourselves on sabbatical.”

 

Buffy jumped up from her seat in excitement and ran over to Xander, giving him a big hug. “Thanks for understanding!”

 

Returning her hug, he said, “Yeah, well, I miss you guys. It kinda sucks not having you around. Although now you’ll have to move closer to the Academy, but two hours away is better than across the planet.”

 

Moving out of his embrace, Buffy agreed, “Definitely.” 

 

Xander stood to his full height, conveying his seriousness. “I don’t want the bloodlines stuff leaked. That’s between us, although I will bring in Willow. I want you to brief the two of us monthly on your progress.”

 

“That’s fair,” Giles agreed.

 

Folding his arms across his chest, Xander continued, “And I am not going to fund the project.”

 

Buffy began to protest, “But-“ 

 

“I’ll cover expenses for traveling and acquiring resources just like I have for your previous assignments because we need to replace lost resources and rebuild our library. But this won’t be a Council approved project. You are on your own. Oh, and no Slayers will be harmed or experimented on, got it? We aren’t the Initiative and this isn’t the human genome project.”

 

“Of course not!” Giles said indignantly.

 

“Just making sure we are all on the same page.”

 

“I wouldn’t trust anyone but Giles with this, Xand,” Buffy said to him, placing her hand on his forearm for reassurance.

 

Xander took a full breath since their disagreement over the subject began and smiled. “Awesome. Now that boss Xander is done freaking out, friend Xander suggests hugs and lunch.”

 

“Hugs we can do, but can we get a rain check for lunch?” Buffy asked.

 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

 

“We have an appointment with our real estate agent and it’s a two hour drive.”

 

“Wait what?” Xander asked, his mind reeling over the possibilities her words presented.

 

Buffy laughed. “We hedged our bets. We’re looking at some property about five miles from the Academy.”

 

“Together,” Xander stated, crossing his arms across his chest and eyeing them with suspicion.

 

Giles stood and placed an arm around Buffy and drew her to him. “Together,” he confirmed, kissing the top of her head.

 

A wide smile spread across Xander’s expressive face. “Okay… that’s… actually pretty awesome news. Congrats!”

 

Buffy hugged Giles to her and returned Xander’s smile. “You’re the first to know, since we only got in two days ago and haven’t had a chance to hook up with Dawn or Willow yet, so-“

 

“Don’t spill the beans. Got it. Well, you two crazy kids have fun!” he instructed, pulling his friends into a group hug.

 

—————

 

Sometime during their tour of the house, Giles had become separated from Buffy. Wandering into the garden, he found her standing beneath a pear tree, enjoying the gentle breeze and admiring the rolling terrain of the West Country in the late afternoon light. He approached her softly, before leaning his forehead against the back of her head and circling his arms around her waist. She took a deep, relaxing breath and placed her hands over his, and he drew her into his body before resting his cheek against hers.

 

“This is the house,” she breathed. “I can see us happy here.”

 

He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “I can too. Should we tell her this is the one?” he asked, referring to the real estate agent.

 

“She can wait. I am enjoying the moment with you.” Buffy closed her eyes and melted into his embrace, immersing herself in the sweet air of the countryside and the comforting scent of her lover. She’d found her home. Her haven. After the chaos of her Calling, the horrors of the Hellmouth, the loss of her mother, the depression after her resurrection, the victory over the First Evil and the reconstruction that followed… after all that, she finally felt at peace, finally felt she could move forward with her life in the arms of the one man who had been her partner for almost a decade.

 

Giles felt her relax in his arms and hugged her closer to him. For the first time in his life he felt rooted. There was a future for him that didn’t involve being alone, being the odd man out, whether it was due to the age difference, his nationality, his early role as an authority figure, or his Calling. He finally accepted his destiny and found his Slayer… found Buffy waiting for him, waiting to share a life of love and children, something he’d given up on so many years ago and didn’t realize how much it actually mattered to him until he came face to face with his ancestor by way of his diary, written 750 years ago.

 

And while it remained to be seen what would come of Roland’s research with regards to the Slayers, his true legacy stood together within each other’s arms, contemplating their future and starting a new life together.


End file.
